#well there wont be . climate change ... get her !

[ariiiadnes]

not a single thought in my head today 人(_ _*) stared at the bear coasters i crocheted and i was like 'wow what if i made this for mutuals' as if there were not oceans btwn some of us

[magebastard]

murmuring brook, curving about you

wc: 2123

rating: g

ship: lucanis dellamorte x loua ‘rook’ mercar

notes: pre relationship! early game! picks up immediately where the cutscene leaves off after the ‘get coffee with illario’ quest! the rating is g though this IS the ‘lucanis is not experienced’ conversation. nothing rlly inappropriate happens they’re just a couple anxious emotionally constipated clowns. this is soooo self indulgent btw. i think abt them in early game and i cannot stop thinking ‘wow. they are friends’

“Ready to head back to the Lighthouse?” Perhaps it is selfish—they rest so little. Rook wants to stay. Wants them both to stay tucked in this cafe where the blight and the war haven’t yet spread their ruin.

She has not seen him so at ease, so loose, even toiling away as he’s wont to in their dim kitchenette. Lucanis swills his coffee, a soft smile still on his lips.

“Almost.” Quietly, like a secret between them.

Loua tries not to look overly pleased.

It’s been close to a week at this point, since he’s joined them. She didn’t know him before his imprisonment, she couldn’t attest to whether or not it changed him. She cannot miss the man he was before and she’s grateful for it. She is so tired of missing. All they have is the capable assassin he seems to be now. One who, apparently, makes a fine pasta dinner and expertly crafts a shopping list. ‘Abomination’ isn’t even the first word Loua would use to describe him. It’s rather far down on the list.

“Well then,” she began. “I would love to ask you about knitting. I can sew alright, but I can barely accomplish a garter stitch.”

He quirks a brow. “I had a feeling I might be mocked for this.”

“What? What is there to mock? I asked for your help.”

“It is a domestic hobby—“

“I like that you knit.”

“And knit-wear isn’t very practical for the warmer climate—“

“Lucanis!” Loua is beaming at him when he finally pauses. He drums his fingers on the table. A few patrons are watching them, now. Coy smiles on their faces that he pointedly ignores.

“Again; I like that you knit. It is practical. And you said it yourself—it’s just another sort of dexterity training.”

“Forgive me. I’m used to employing logic to silence Illario and his jests.” He says it so breezily. The words are sharp but the intent is jocular, so familiar, even as Illario has fled them and cannot interject. Just like brothers, Loua supposes.

“There’s nothing to forgive. I imagine it’s also nice to have a focus beyond the work. And I like that you’re discerning about coffee. It implies particularity.”

It isn’t only that she’s convivial—it’s that she’s so genuine about it. There is an assertive sincerity to her prodding. She and Bellara are alike in that way. The gentle methods with which they pry are new to him. Lucanis is used to the perfunctory. The cold, calloused inquiry. From marks, from crows, from captors. He’s used to maneuvering through conversations—not having them.

But she’s made an assessment about him. Something simple enough. Benign, maybe. Or does she mean to tell him that he’s being observed? Noticed? Is she marking his weakness?

Though…

Smells like pipe-smoke. Coffee. Burnt clothes and lightning. No blood under her nails, or dry at the corners of her lips. She won’t hurt you.

Yes, he is starting to suspect as much.

“Before all of this, I lived a very comfortable life. I was in a stronger position to be particular.”

It delights him that she snorts—unrefined and comfortable. Maybe he should feel admonished or teased but it’s nice. It’s as if they’re friends.

“You don’t need to be ‘comfortable’—cough, filthy rich—to have impeccable taste in coffee. I’ll have you know; there’s a stand in Midtown, just a hair outside of Dock Town, with a dark roast that makes my heart sing. Andoral’s Breath has stiff competition out there.” Loua punctuates her lecture with a hearty sip. It is good coffee. Made better by the full moon, and the company.

“Truly? You’re sipping—guzzling, more like—Andoral’s Breath right now and you think there is a single roast that compares?”

“Guzzling!” She grins and he hesitates. This is nice. It’s as if he’s getting enough air to fill his lungs, finally, for the first time since his capture. And he’s smiling back honestly. When had that happened?

“Well, you’re not luxuriating in it as someone who is particular might.” Lucanis is joking. Spite thuds like a wind-torn rudder in his skull but his remarks are astonishingly temperate.

“Alright. We’ll get another cup each and I’ll take my time, then.” She reasons. It’s a calm, factorial resolve. Is it Spite that preens or something softer in his chest? We’ll just spend more time together, she might have said. Is he getting this right—is she enjoying this, too?

“Fine. And later, when we have a moment, I’ll have to see this coffee stand. A stand! Vaya, not a cafe or a proper shop? What of the atmosphere—can you even stop to enjoy a drink that way?”

Lucanis leans forward in his seat. He hopes to mirror her, goading and inviting. This, at least, is familiar to him. The dance of it.

“It’s a stand in a park, thank you very much. There’s a fountain and real grass and a pond. The mage lights are white after sunset. And little. Like stars.” Loua holds her conviction tightly. She doesn’t relish getting gooey and sentimental when they’ve reached such a jovial place. But something melts within her as she describes this quiet, personal thing.

To his credit, Lucanis seems to take the odd moment in stride. His smile does something saccharine and Loua will refuse to think about this for the days and weeks to come.

She shakes it off, tamps the homesick reverence out of her voice.

“And the dark roast is called King’s Cup.” Her hands are meticulous, even gesturing errantly. Mages. He would roll his eyes if he weren’t so captivated.

“Bitter and spiced—like a welcome home,” Loua pinches her fingers together, as if capturing the meaning with her hands could convey its verity. She wants to meet his passion for fine coffee, wants them to bond as she has with their gathered outfit so far.

“Ah, see, you are mocking me.” And he’s still smiling and it’s like they’re both in on this joke.

“No! I’m serious!” She laughs and laughs. “If I had to describe such a feeling, it would be like coming home. The kissing—first, goodbye or otherwise, I’m not entirely sure.” A new busker has set up near the counter, plucking away some slow melody. She wants to sway to it, feeling light enough to dance.

“Though some might say no kiss is sweeter than that of a welcome home, no?” Lucanis is messing with her and quietly Loua wishes they could have met in a time of peace. She could do this all the time with him, she decides. Sitting, laughing, ribbing. Flirting, surely, in some weird way.

“Some might—but not you? You assassin types love the heady, tragic stuff.” Ease up, you oaf. Don’t push, don’t nudge, don’t ruin this.

Though again, the sea air and gentle chords pull something loose between them. Lucanis does not respond with annoyance or discomfort. He’s still smiling at her.

“We assassin types aren’t often given a choice in that. It’s why I prefer the romance in novels. Much more range.” He’s still joking with her. Loua should take this and his tone and his quips and grasp them tightly. Move on. And yet…

When had she ever left well enough alone?

“More range than your own romances?�� Perhaps if she keeps smiling, he won’t recoil at her clumsy attempt to know him. Perhaps he won’t care that the hapless leader of this crew throws her good sense away in a conversation when she carries even a mote of curiosity. Perhaps, hopefully, he will simply say ‘that’s not your business’ and they can move on—never to speak of this again.

Ah, but they were doing so well.

For a moment, to Loua’s horror, his face does betray discomfort.

Then, to her surprise, something relents and he unspools further still.

“I, personally, have none to speak of. No time, you see.” His head bobs from side to side as he contemplates explaining further. “No time, and not much vested interest, in truth. Mine is a solitary work. I don’t seek out things that are fleeting, and from there, my options are—well. It has not been a priority for me.” It shocks him that he isn’t entirely embarrassed to tell her this. Once, Lucanis believed it would shame him to be so comfortably isolated. At some point, perhaps even before the Ossuary, he must have come to accept the inexorable nature of his desires.

It helps, he supposes, that Loua only nods along. “I understand that. Between you and I; I would have benefited a lot from your foresight,” she offers in turn.

“Oh?”

“Well,” she pauses to take a sip. Stalling. “I certainly never thought to pursue anything fleeting. That doesn’t stop them from fleeting anyways.”

“Ah. My apologies—“

“No—I mean. Kaffas, that sounded bitter. Things just happen. It’s life, yeah?” Creators, maybe we should have gone back to the Lighthouse.

Lucanis nods. “Sure. Still, the heart and mind are often at odds, even as time passes. I’m sorry all the same.” And she supposes he knows a thing or two about hearts and minds. The grief and loss.

“Thank you. The novels are more fun, anyway.”

“You think?”

“Of course. Impossible trysts, impossible battles, love conquering all? What’s more fun than that?”

The lights are beginning to dim around the cafe, giving way to the strange ambience of midnight. Her fumbling notwithstanding, there is a molasses ease to leaning back and tilting her head at him. They’re just people, doing what people have always done; holding out something heart-soft and vulnerable for someone else to take.

Lucanis swallows around the sudden hard ache in his throat. Spite has conjured the sound of a cat, scratching a hard wooden door in his mind.

“Is that what you want, then? Swords and combat? Love to be the answer to stopping the mighty elvhen gods?”

She snorts again. “It could be,” she says. “But no. Not the swords and combat part. At least, not forever. I’m a Shadow Dragon—the swords are probably inevitable for a while yet. But someday—I don’t know. Maybe a house by some water. Coffee every day. A family. The happily ever after stuff.”

He tips his cup in a slight ‘cheers’. “That’s wise. I don’t imagine the tragic, heady stuff has much of a shelf life.”

Loua tips her cup back at him. “And you?”

“What about me? I can hardly make an informed decision about this.”

She points a finger. “I’m only guessing here, myself. If not romance, then what’s happily ever after? You said you haven’t had much of an opportunity to choose for yourself, so imagine it. The world is wide open for you. We finish the evanuris, then what?”

“You’re especially optimistic this evening.”

“I’m always optimistic. It’s my best and worst quality. Go on.”

Lucanis takes a moment, chewing it over. There is a kind of comfort that comes with never having to decide these things. His life has been a ruthless straight line. Pushing onward, never stalling to question or process. Mourning only in the dark. There has never been another way.

His eyes stay fixed on hers, dark and bright like sunlit woods. Loua lounges in her seat. She’s smiling at him, encouraging as ever. Free of the loneliness that dogs him. Perhaps there has always been another way.

“A family would be nice, I think. Death is my purview and it’s a demanding employer, but if I could—if there were something else.” He swallows, tries not to stutter. “If I could even begin to consider something else, yes. A house, a family. Perhaps we’d all knit. Something peaceful.”

The song the busker plays has gone impossibly sweet. Loua knows without knowing that the fool is staring directly at their table and she tries not to pay any mind beyond that. She tries not to give them too much ammunition in the way that she cannot control her face around this man.

Is he blushing? Loua wonders. Am I blushing? Of course I am, look at him.

The crowd around the bar must have died down. The barista on shift strolls up, practically giddy to deliver them a refill and collect their empty mugs. Loua wrenches her gaze away to nod and thank them. Pointedly ignoring the glee and mischief.

This place…

Lucanis seems to gather himself after a long beat.

“Though, as I’ve said, who’s to know what I really want? My own body is housing a demon and the world as we know it may end. ‘Something peaceful’ becomes a loftier goal by the hour.”

Her brows furrow at his dismissal. Loua could argue, but goodness, when was the last time she fought for anything that had nothing to do with her cause. Had she ever truly planned on settling down one day? Had she ever planned on leaving Tevinter when it still had use for her?

There’s comfort in having a purpose, she supposes. Though very suddenly it all seems so heavy to bear. Is it so ridiculous to think they all might rest once the evanuris are defeated? Is it so greedy to want to pursue the purpose of finding peace?

Is it so bizarre that she wants that for him?

For all of them, of course.

What am I doing?

Loua taps the lip of his mug with her own.

“To something peaceful,” she says. Lucanis huffs a quiet laugh.

“Something peaceful for us both.”

[lyss-sketchbox]

God I really hope they change the designs. We don't even need a lore reason, they aren't officially in the game yet. Just fuckin give the characters some melanin. And even if it wasn't just the cultural disrespect isn't everyone tired of the same pale character design at this point. And also you're definitely right about the character design in general. Some of the outfits and characters look like bad genshin ocs they shoved into the game.

I'm not even talking about the skin color at this point. I've accepted that hyv is a chinese company and wont do shit unless the CN community riots.

CASE in point. Spin-to-win Neuvi nerf was mass reported by the CN community as consumer fraud and I bet they're gonna fix that immediately.

It's just... idk common sense??? It may be a fictional world but it does take inspirations from Latin America / African that has... idk hot climates!! Therefore darker skin!! And for some reason you drop this pasty ass vampire cowboy lady???? In NATLAN???? Like they wouldn't get this much of a backlash if most of these characters we as black as Iansan atleast.

My gripe now is just the designs itself. The first 3 characters don't look that bad, i can get behind that. They're cute and colorwise very complimentary. Even the pyro archon(?) even though she looks like she doesn't even belong in Natlan, red black and yellow goes well together.

The cowboy and leopard lady tho...

ESPECIALLY the vampire cowboy goth lady. She literally is just beta clorinde they lazily put in Natlan for a bigger roster. I just hate how messy and out of place she looks even by Natlan's messy standards.

Feathery (?) strandy hat, very convoluted shirt (?), the long coat tails attacked to the short revealing shirt gimmick, pants that only has one leggings (????)

What is this? Genuinely. It's asymetry for the sake of asymetry. I hate it. Theres no purpose in this, this outfit highlights nothing. I see her and its just a blotch of black-purple-red with super contasting pasty pale skin. Worst of all she doesn't even look like she's from Natlan, she looks like a messy ruffed up travelling cowboy with none of those Natlan symbols or tattoos or patterns or anything. Just normal leather and straps.

It is ugly. It doesnt work. Its not nice to look at. I hope she doesnt play a role where she shows up on screen alot. Im sorry.

Same point for the leopard lady. Doesn't look Natlan at all. Just a leopard lady with revealing clothes. SHORT JEANS TOO MIGHT I ADD. Something you probably don't see in Natlan. She is less hated by me because atleast her color palette works.

Its facking Acheron again but I can excuse Archeron because ITS SPACE.

[mamaluigi2018-commsopen]

Sonic's Final Frontiers An absolute climatic finish to an outstanding game and story. I loved every single bit of Frontiers. It is now my new favorite Sonic game and one of my absolute favorite games of all time.

Right from the start, how it changes the original ending of Frontiers. I enjoyed the initial ending but it was severly lacking in the narrative and missed that climatic feeling, Final Horizons changes just about everything and lets you play as the whole cast, something not done since 2006, all with their own unique abilities. Letting Amy Knuckles and Tails be playable was such an amazing feeling, getting to feel these characters again and even allows us to explore more in depths their inner turmoils and how they want to grow and change for the better. And even in moments where they captured the cyber corruption as well, just from the first interaction, they were kneeling in pain. Puts you in retrospect that Sonic was contracting the corruption 4 times on 4 seperate islands! He was going through so much pain, but the thought of helping his friends was what kept pushing him. And with Sonic taking on each of the the main titans spirits and going through trials, really helped in bringing the Ancients to peace and allow them to take a part in helping save their world, And it all came to an end in the climatic battle against The End. I love every single moment of this fight because it has everyone giving their all to stop this monster. Sonic's strong will to take the cyber corruption and use it to enhance his Super Form past its limit, Sage's devotion to protecting Eggman, Eggman's wit of using The End's weaponry against it, and Amy Knuckles and Tails supporting up the shield to protect Sage and Eggman wanting to help out Sonic for what he's done for them. All ending in Sonic letting his Cyber Corruption take hold, letting it slowly corrupt him just for the sake of protecting his world and friends, letting Eggman fire him into The End and destroying it for good, not without sustaining heavy damage. That's why I love the Sonic Series so much. The characters have so much emotions and personalities, they have such a wide range of characteristics, Sonic of course being the most stand out. Even though he says himself he's not one, he shows himself to be a true hero, not letting anything get to him and wont let anything not reach his goal of protecting those he cares about. Even at the cost of his own life, if his friends are safe, then thats good enough for him. And thats why I cried at the end. Just from Sonic's devotion is inspiring and such an amazing drive to protect those he cares for. And after all is said and done, letting Sage live to be with her father and even letting Eggman show how proud he is of her, even to calling her "his daughter" to her personally, is such a heartfelt and amazing note to leave off of. I love this game so much.

[thesnivy123]

Okay, back from dinner-

SO! Let's stsrt with a brief (haha it wont be brief) explanation of OnI lore so ya can read it while i explain meteorshower itself. Sooooo-

Oxygen not Included takes place- or, uh. what occurs BEFORE the game starts takes place on a semi-near-future earth. Not crazy far, maybe a century or so in the future?

anyways. Things Did Not Get Better. That's the driving force of the events that lead up to the game- Climate change and pollution and Humans Being Assholes just kept going. It's not, like, unlivable, mind you. Just shitty.

The story follows two women, college friends turned incredibly talented scientists- Our main character, Olivia Broussard, and our "closest thing this story has to an antagonist", Jackie Stern. They get jobs at a company called Gravitas, a research facility specializing in odd and unique fields of study. Bioengineering, spacetime, all sorts of things that wouldn't be given much thought elsewhere.

While Olivia works as a bioengineer- And a damn talented one, at that- Jackie becomes the director of the facility. And things Go To Shit. They drift apart, with Jackie growing cold with power and ambition, and...

... Well, first thing to discuss is the Unethical DNA Thievery. Employees are unknowingly having their genomes used to make weird little modified human homunculus clone things to harvest resources in otherwise inhabitable places- Like asteroids. It's freaky.

Second of all, the Temporal Bow. Jackie's little pet project turned miraculous source of clean energy- Generated via moving molecules back-and-forth through time. Surely, this will have no consequences. It'll save the world! Infinite energy! No pollution!

... there is, in fact, consequences. The Temporal Bow has a byproduct- An indestructible, unreactive mineral known as Neutronium, growing on the equipment like a festering mold. It's harmless, though. Not poisonous or radioactive or anything. Just impossible to get rid of- It's implied that Gravitas was disposing of it by rocketing loads of neutronium-contaminated objects into the sun, or at least just into space. (This, incidentally, allows a certain little duplicant to survive the events that will soon occur, but that's not relevant to this).

So! Uh. Turns out, spacetime being ripped asunder by the Bow is... Bad. Like, universe-destroying bad. Nikola, a scientist, finds a way to contain any potential apocalypse to the planet alone, but is... Err. Apprehended by security. It's unclear if he survives this incident (though he's definitely dead as of the game lmao)

Now, in the bioengineering wing... 3d printers that can create life from base elements! How wonderful! They're time powered, because of course they are, it's a MIRACLE ENERGY.

And then there's a meltdown. In bioengineering. Where Olivia works. Evacuation is called.

Olivia attempts escape through the lab's teleportation system. There's a quirk in the system, though, so far having only caused a dog to "dissappear" and a machine to "malfunction".

The earth explodes. When Olivia comes to, with her memory... Less than intact, for the time being...

Well, as far as she knows, she's the AI of a printing pod, on a mission to mine out an asteroid with a small colony of modified humans.

She's the only survivor of the demise of the entire planet, contained entirely within the machine that caused that apocalypse.

And her Duplicants have no way of knowing that she's sentient.

ANYWAYS ILL EXPLAIN THE ACTUAL METEORSHOWER SHIP IN MY REBLOG

SNIV TELL ME OF METEORSHOWER :3c

OKAY OKAY so to start i just need to know how much context i gotta explain- ik ur already a rain world fan but-

What do you know about Oxygen not Included (by Klei, same devs as don't starve)

[amber-angel]

Ok so this is probably a dumb thing but does anyone else get fed up with the whole "you make the change" thing that adults do with kids? It seems like in every address I've seen directed at kids/teens, the speaker is basically saying that they have the "power" to fix whatever mess is current news. But they shouldn't have to? And they shouldn't have to feel like that's on their shoulders. The kids weren't the ones to make this mess, but apparently they're going to have to be the ones fixing it, but not until after the adults have finished fucking it up. Just. For once I'd like to see someone do their goddamn job or maybe own up to their shit without pushing the fixing of said shit onto us.

[bunnymajo]

Was thinking about “What do characters do if they’re in limbo because of legal red tape? If their stories just end because they have to?” and came to the conclusion that I think it’s up to anyone else not bound to this red tape (ie-fans) to finish it for them and I applied it to Scourge & Fiona and wrote this short one-shot fanfic

Enjoy:

Sometime, Someday, Somewhere:

  “Scourge, come back with me, I think there’s a way out of here for us” Fiona bluntly demanded standing over her partner in crime as he laid back on a beach chair by the ocean. Despite the tropic climate she wore her usual black form fitting attire, as if rebelling against a typical vacation dress code.

Scourge lowered his sunglasses to glance at her, then pulled them back up and looked back out to the sea. 

“Nah.”

“Nah?”’ Fiona mirrored. “After all that we did, you’re just gonna give up and waste away on this beach?”

Scourge sat up. If Fiona wasn’t someone he was fond of he would’ve just left her without explanation, but instead he hoped that she would ease up if he was just brutally honest.

“Yeah, actually. I’m under new management now, remember? Me and that blue idiot can’t be in the same room ever again, and because of my pretty face if my boss tries to use me I’ll wind up right back here. So I might as well kick back and have a good time, I can do literally anything I want here.”

Fiona stood silent, she couldn’t really argue with that.

“Now that I think about it, me and you aren’t even supposed to talk to each other anymore, but since we both just happen to be here anyway I don’t see why I have to follow all the rules.” Scourge continued as he pulled out another beach chair, seemingly out of nowhere, and coyly gestured for her to sit down. “I wont tell if you wont.”

Fiona sat down, her outfit suddenly morphed to a yellow and black two piece swimsuit as she laid back, still scowling.

“Ya see?” he smirked while also admiring Fiona’s new fashion change.

The two laid back in silence, watching the waves ebb & flow for long moments.

“..It doesn’t bother you then? That your whole life purpose just vanished because The Big S lost a fight? And that we had to pay the price for it?” Fiona finally asked, breaking the silence.

Scourge groaned “I mean, it did at first, but the more time I spent here thinking, the more I realized Sonic can just have it. Think about it, he’ll be fighting for the rest of his life, he’s got a lot of pressure on him to be a role model and be successful, and it can’t take a toll on him ever. What an idiot! Who wants that?” the two of them laughed.

“It was fun trying to make him squirm, I will miss that, but I also got no shortage of punks I could wrestle with here if I ever get bored,” he concluded.

Fiona finally smiles but looks down at herself. “For me, I guess I just don’t want to be forgotten, I feel like my story was just starting, I wanted to see how far I could go, but now I’m just remembered for beating up a little kid”

“Aw, but I love when you do that” he joked, Fiona playfully slapped his arm.

“I guess I’ll also be remembered for having bad taste in men” she smirked joking back.

“Yeah, you sure did” Scourge agreed. He sat up and reached over to a small table where a chili dog and a root beer float sat, he grabbed the chili dog and ate it in just a few bites. “I’m glad you were with me though”

“What was that?”

“I’m not saying it again.”

Fiona huffed, she had heard him but she wanted to hear him say it again as many times as she could get away with.

The beach waves continued to rock as they sat in silence again. They passed the root beer float to each other to share.

“If, you know, ever got its act together and you could go back, would you? You’re not in the same boat as me anymore, you still have a chance at being your own boss. Kick down as many snot nosed brats as you wanted, you might even get a cool outfit out of it.”

Fiona gulped down the last bit of root beer before answering.

“Nah.”

[clouds-rambles]

Im not even gonna go anonymous anymore. Arghh asking for another request makes me feel guilty knowing you have an essay due so i'll just present you a little prompt!

Being immortal and outliving people you love, you know the drill. It must be sad and lonely. But you know what i feel like would be devastating? Just imagine Teyvat in a time loop. Meeting your friends for the first time, getting know them, hearing their plans and ambitions, sticking with them through dark times, falling in love... Reader just happens to be the one to witness all of it over and over and over again.

Don’t worry about it! I’m horrifically avoiding it right now. I’ll probably have some lunch and do some more of it after lunch. I’m talking about things I enjoy so hopefully it wont take up too much of my brain and we’re going to ignore the graphic novel I have to create in 2 weeks too lmao I’m a professional procrastinator

I have a bit of an idea with this so I hope you don’t mind it being platonic and with the Mondstat guys either. I’m going to reference a previous set of headcanons where you’re the leader of the winds. The two writings aren’t related relationship wise though.

Pairings; (Platonic) people of Mondstat x reader

Warning(s); angst

Keep reading under the cut!

You had done this cycle millions of times before. Before you even became the leader of the winds, when you were just a small spirit. Much like your friend Barbatos.

And while the archon of this land could sleep for thousands of years at a time you had elected to protect his people from the dangers that the god of freedom was too asleep to do anything about. And in fairness you can understand why Barbatos has been asleep many a time to avoid his brain contaminating with similar ideals to Decrabain. You can’t blame him really...

But you’re so horrifically lonely. And it’s not like you’re surrounded by an absence of people. In reality you often find yourself over compensating for your loneliness. Nights are often spent in the tavern conversing with mortals that you can’t quite understand.

You half wish you could ascend to Celestia, at least there you can be merry with fellow immortals and not have the constant threat of losing a friend dear.

You have known the Ragnvindr family for many generations. It’s not like they are hard to notice. Bright red hair and, more often than not, a sweet, bubbly personality. Not many of the Ragnvindr’s have been blessed with visions, but they all make their way through life the best way possible. And while they seem to show similar thought processes to the previous anemo archon, especially considering the fact they basically own the alcohol industry in Mondstat, and more recently Teyvat in her entirety. But when you see the family treating their employee’s so well and with a great wage you can’t help but think maybe humanity can move past the age of dictators. Or at least the humans of Mondstat.

The newest Ragnvindr, Diluc had always caught your eye. You had helped babysit both him and his brother while you weren’t busy reminiscing in memories of old mondstat and slaying monsters of your home. The air of change hangs heavy on the air when you’re around them, it seems like the winds you lead are trying to tell you something that you can’t yet decipher.

Until the day comes when you can. Seeing a broken, sobbing Diluc shut you out of his home not only made you sad. But, it infact reminded you that you shouldn’t get too close to mortals. For, like your friend Crepus’, mortal life is fleeting. 

You’ve seen many stories over the years, but there’s only so many times you can hear the same story before they all meld together.

Take Amber for instance, decided to become an Outrider because of her Grandfather. How many times had you heard that story? Someones grandfather joined the knights and inspired them? Too many to count. And as much as you want to remember Ambers story, you already know, like all the others, her memory will meld with the others. 

Kaeya’s story isn’t one you’ll forget quickly, especially when the deeds of  Khaenri'ah weigh heavy on your mind. Though you have seen a small handful of changing of alliance stories in your lifetime his is probably the one that’ll stick the most. Especially when the memory of him crying in your arms after the man he considered a father died. 

There’s this one young girl you remember from centuries ago. She reminds you of Barbara a lot. Carefree, loves the people she works for. Just this girl was born a few millennia too early. She was apart of the Windblume resistance alongside the bard Barbatos fashioned himself after. You had attempted to smuggle the girl out the fortress many a time yet she always wanted to help. 

Sometimes when you watch Barbara sing you can’t help but cry over a girl you considered your first friend after becoming leader of the winds. Barbara is under the impression that you hate her because of how you avoid the girl. But being constantly reminded of someone you couldn’t save in the end makes you so sad. You’re not sure how Barbatos copes with donning the face of a friend when you can barely look at the face of someone who reminds you of a lost friend.

Razor sits fondly on your mind. He reminds you of the people you did actually save in old Mondstat. You remember checking in on a handful of refugees that you had to hide in old caves and how easily they had climatized to foraging for food. Whenever you see Razor you’re reminded of another young boy who went missing millennia ago who was later found to have been raised by bears. 

Through the centuries you’ve become good at pairing up couples. You seem to be able to point out people who will later enter a marriage. You’re not sure if soulmates and reincarnation exists, but that’s your only explanation being able to point to couples so easily.

You wonder for an immortal like yourself would be blessed with a soulmate. Especially considering you weren’t originally in a humanoid form. Maybe there’s some thousand wind out there for you that you’ll never be able to meet and fall for because of this form.

Your mind stretches to Barbatos whenever you think this but you never let yourself linger on it for too long. Lord Barbatos doesn’t like commitment, and you’re very much content with that, yes sir. 

Your eyes often linger on Rosaria as you often ponder if she thinks she’s the only nun to have strayed from typical nun doings. You remember telling a small Rosaria tales of Decrabains nuns and how they helped with the resistance against the tyrant. You wonder if that’s what gave her the idea to stray from typical nunnery. 

You smile upon Lisa fondly, a bright young woman with aspirations as high as the stars. Much like Rosaria you remember telling a young Lisa about alchemy and sorcery. She had such a knack for it, and seeing the woman return after only two years of study was a little disheartening. But you’re sure there will be people after her who will have similar aspirations with better outcomes. It’s not unlike you’ve seen people scurry their lives away in the pursuit of knowledge. You can understand her want for a different life.

As much as it hurts you in the end most, if not all, the people of Mondstat have buried themselves in your heart. And like you have done countless times before you’ll have to move on from them once you’re dead, no matter how much it hurts. Your mind ponders to Adeptus Xiao of Liyue. He’s under a similar curse to you. The curse of being alone while being surrounded by people. You wonder if that’s why Xiao has distanced himself from mortals.

And as much as you feel like you should take a page out of his book, you find yourself falling in love with Mondstat’s citizens over and over again.

[2much4me-4ever]

'One of the most polluting people on the earth'

well im pretty sure she's responsible for less pollution than the male, white shareholders of the 100 companies responsible for most of earths pollution.

Im sure most 'information' about her being a 'self serving' feminist are are bullshit. When has Taylor Swift done something that self-serves only her? Does she slut shame other woman? Does she pay unfair wages based on gender?

Taylor Swift speaks about gender based problems in the music industry becouse that is her main expirience. She has critisized the medias & the publics view on her multiple times for having double standarts on women and men in the music industry and for celebraties in general. This is not a problem applying to only her, but to all women in the public eye.

Saying that she can't speak about her problems just becouse she is the biggest female star right now is ridiculous. Especally then, she should raise her voice.

Yes, Taylor Swift is a billionnaire.

And Yes, she should speak about Palastine and voice her opinion publically.

But I wont' stand by when people are attacking young women for liking something, and I wont stand aside when people are shifting the blame.

(Im not talking about those crazy, racist, obsessive (mostly american) 'Fans' who can't see reason and follow their celebraty like a sect leader. Those can die for all I care)

While Taylor Swift is not the perfect example of a feminist leader, she has done something.

She has positioned herself against the right wing assholes, and supported the equality act.

She purchases carbon credits, which is not a lot, but more than many of her collegues have done.

She has no racial or sexist slurs in her music, which many of the great male musicians of this time do. They get no shit for it, its even normalised. Fuck them for supporting patriarchy AND gaining benifit. These Fuckers are shameless, and we should be way angrier at them for treating abusive language like it can be thrown around easily.

Instead of hunting down and shouting the names of the men mostly responsible for climate change, and calling out large musicians for using sexist language, we are calling attention to Taylor Swift. Why?

Why argue with white terfy obsessive 'fans' who can't see reason and won't change their mind?

Why blame young girls for liking a big celebraty?

Im not saying that there aren't any reasons to critizise Taylor Swift. But there is a place and time for that. (And better arguments than those the media has preyed on, come on)

But that place shoudn't take up so much space in media, not when there are more important problems.

So please stop talking about Taylor Swift, she's not the problem.

Patriarchy is.

(Im also pretty sure the media is feeding us with that hateful shit so we stop thinking about important stuff.

Oh, another femicide? Mass extinction? Male white 'supremacy' is killing the planet for money & the worker class is massively exploited?

But look, Taylor Swift is on another trip, polluting the air with 1000% more than the average person!

(Good thing it keeps us from realising companies are using billions on billions of CO2 to keep production costs down.)

Swifties need to get a grip and understand their idol is one of the most polluting people on the planet, doesn't care for them, and is a self-serving white feminist at most. She's a billionnaire too. When 90% of the antiracist crowd made up from PoC says something, I listen. And as a queer person I just don't care, she's not doing anything for us either. She's also weirdly silent about Palestine, you know?

[exadecent]

Why I decided to change my life - Being that girl chronicles

**note that the phrase “that girl” doesn't necessarily have to mean a female! Replace it with any gender you wish, it simply serves as a phase to mean the person you think is the ideal human being!**

Who says it’s too late (or too early) to change your life? With all of the recent events and the stresses of living, a little lifestyle change can help you avoid complete burnout and even an existential crisis. Plus, we all have our flaws we want to fix, whether that be bad mental health habits or improving our physical health. Or Maybe your reasons for changing are quite simple, as mine are. I want to be that girl. In, “Being that girl chronicles", follow me on my journey to be the very best version of myself, while motivating others along the way. So, say it with me: I will be who I want to be while remembering to love myself along the way.

Staying healthy while bettering ourselves - the bottom line.

Before I get into all of that talk about bettering yourself and being cool and awesome, let's take a step back to remember something that is crucial to our mental health in the long run. Why is it that you want to change? Are you changing for yourself or for other people? For the standards societies set for us? For your parents? Remember that you're perfect now and you will be perfect 10 years from now. Not to say that you don't have flaws, because we all do, but you do not have to change to be any better of a person that you are now. You should want to change because you feel the need to. I felt the need to do something new with my life. I already dyed my hair and pierced my ears, but I thought it was time to step up my game and improve on my well being both mentally and physically. That is why I decided to change my life. That is why I am going to change myself. No person, social media account, celebrity or authority figure will do anything to change my ideals I set for myself. So remember that as you embark on your journey. As if you are changing for someone else (maybe someone you like perhaps) it wont go well.

Who is that girl?

Well, this depends. In the high school climate, many people define that girl as a girl who is very clean, pretty and on top of her life. Usually the girl who gets straight A’s and does it with a smile. However this is all of course too general to achieve. For one, what is “pretty” and what does it mean to be “on top of your life”? That girl usually is the embodiment of all of the things you aspire to be. Usually, people show their insecurities when they talk about this girl that is a figure of all of our imaginations. For all we know, “that girl” is us if we were someone without all of our flaws, which proves to be contradictory because we as humans can not be without flaws. Aside from all of the deep teenager thoughts I just spilled, “that girl” is you. That girl is the person you want to be. So what’s stopping you ?

How can I be that girl?

There is no how-to. Sorry, not sorry. But I can tell you all of the steps that I am going to take to get there. The first thing many people say is to identify where you want to be in a couple of months, a couple of years and maybe in the future. However, news flash, no one knows. Actually, just typing that you gave me a huge onslaught of worry feelings that I did not need today. In actuality, you just have to go back to that general vision of who that girl is. In your head, who is the girl that you wish you were. I'm not telling you to envy her, (or confuse you on whether or not you want to be her or be with her… i'll save that for another day) just note all of the great things about this woman.

DO NOT COMPARE YOUR BEAUTY. You are already beautiful, you simply just don't have the aesthetic that you want to have, which I get. But if you can point out at least 3 great things about this imaginary woman then we can go from there. My vision is a girl who is very studious with excellent notes and grades. They also have this very forestry green clam aesthetic and wear very neutral colors, but always look presentable and cute (even on those baggy sweatpants days). I also imagine this girl to be very fit both mentally and physically.

So, now that you have some idea of what is so great about this imaginary person, let's map out a realistic way to achieve these goals. It's not going to happen overnight. I wish it would though. But I advise spearing your different goals and tackling them little by little. Like for example, one of the major first steps I took was to change the entirety of my room. Now paint, new me. However, I know many do not have this luxury, something within the wall of your abilities. Remember that you should not have to buy your way into becoming the girl of your dreams, rather you should be able to change yourself mentally socially to get there, both of which you have control over. I myself battle an onslaught of mental; health issues (living the teenage dream) and so a lot of my goals are to better myself mentally. With this, I have be0cmign more aware of my emotions and each day I think I am realizing and adjusting to the theme as needed. All you really need to do is pick a plan and stick to it! What are you going to do to get to these dreams? Let the dream of the bible to live without self doubt motivated you on this very rigorous journey.! And if you need help, I'll be here to post in one of these every two weeks to remind you. Together we can be the girl we want to be.

A note about loving yourself

It is crucial that you simultaneously find the path to living yourself alongside this. I can not preach about this because I do have a lot of self confidence issues among the other l0t of really cool teen problems. However, I am cautious when going on journeys like this. You Can aim to better yourself and to do all of the things you want to do, but if you never are able to love yourself then you will neve be that girl. How can you be the girl of your dreams if you don't recognize how awesome you are? Instead Of getting there you're simply going to drift farther and farther away from the goal of reaching there, as you aren't being true to yourself doing the things your heart live. so remember, that you are technically that girl. So you should cherish yourself as you do this imaginary figure in your life. Everything is perfect now, we just want to be a little bit better!

[lligkv]

what the world will look like when it’s over

Can’t Get You Out of My Head is the first Adam Curtis documentary I’ve seen. I gather it’s not the most successful demonstration of his method; it sounds like Hypernormalization or The Century of the Self are tighter in their construction, less effortful (count how many times Curtis says something like “But then it started to run out of control” in this one), and perhaps less frustrating in their narration. In the early episodes of this documentary in particular, it feels like Curtis is constantly presenting what’s being covered as the turn, the decisive shift in his narrative—the emergence of the American counterculture, the revolution of the “unit of One” led by Mao Zedong’s wife Jiang Qing to help her break the stalemate with the other revolutionaries in China into which Zedong had fallen in the 1960s, George Boole’s development of Boolean logic to describe human thought. And the whole thing feels longer and baggier than it needs to be. The early episodes devote much time to interesting individual narratives, like that of the Trinidadian British activist or sorts named Michael Freitas (or Michael X) or a trans woman named Julie in 1960s Britain; they also sprawl in a way that makes the overall argument a bit hard to divine. It’s not until the fourth episode that the shape of Curtis’s narrative becomes clear—that our age is the product of a struggle between a new, broadly liberal-democratic and capitalist image of individualism, a dying era of collectivist struggle, and older, more vicious systems of power, derived from the control of capital and expressed through the middle classes’ suspicion and viciousness toward the subaltern and toward each other, even as they remain subject to the power of oligarchs and billionaires.

Curtis also seems to play fast and loose with the facts sometimes. When he presents Médecins Sans Frontières’s founder Bernard Kouchner as an avatar of a theory of the “one world” of liberal democracy—the idea that we’re basically one world of individuals, enjoying certain human rights regardless of political orientations or ideologies, and that Western nations are duty-bound by virtue of their prosperity to intervene when other nations violate people’s rights—it seems a distortion of what Kouchner actually says in the footage Curtis includes: “We don’t care on leftist or rightist countries [sic]; there is no leftist and rightist suffering, and there is no possibility to split the world in[to] ‘good’ people or ‘bad’ people, ‘good’ dead and ‘bad’ dead.” Which isn’t to say Kouchner didn’t believe in liberal-democratic ideas—he may well have—but what he’s shown as saying has to do with the consideration of suffering as suffering regardless of a person’s identity or allegiance, which is a different matter.

This is just one of several moments when I stopped to wonder how secure I actually was in Curtis’s hands. But ultimately, I find the emotional history he lays out resonant. The age we’re living through now, in the 2020s, is indeed the product of certain fantasies of individualism and of a post-end-of-history, neoliberal “one world”—with no ideologies but capitalism and putative democracy—meeting age-old systems of power, acquisition, and control, and age-old features of the human mind and heart: resentment, prejudice, betrayal, jealousy, the need to be prosperous, the need to be free.

And Curtis’s work appeals to me for the same reason the writer Pankaj Mishra’s work does. He historicizes our underhistoricized time. What’s more, he does so in a way that’s especially rare to see in any mainstream media venue. Usually, when you want to understand the connections between, say, colonial-era empires and post-war welfare states, or if you want to understand what happened to turn Western societies as they were post-war to Western societies as they are post-financialization, you have to seek the information out on your own. It’s valuable to have someone in a place like the BBC willing to put the pieces of these narratives together. And willing to remind us of the events that are so incredibly easy to forget even in one’s own lifetime. Abu Ghraib, for instance, which pops up in part 6 of the documentary. That shit happened while I was alive. How often do I remember it? How many American sins get drowned out in the new ones that emerge every day of every month of every year? Or in the stasis that sets in when what was once novel, like the War on Terror or the invasion into our privacy represented by the Patriot Act, fades into regular life?

I was jotting down copious notes while watching the doc, as is my wont. The questions and thoughts that came up, in no particular order:

How do the elites of a given era impose their preferred ideologies? How are the structures of power we grow up with constructed, and how do those go on to shape our behavior?

Control, as it’s practiced by societies in the 21st century, often comes down to the recognition of patterns in human behavior—and their manipulation.

The loss of power, like that which was suffered after the collapse of Britain’s empire or in the slow hollowing-out of America’s manufacturing industry in the 20th century, leads to anger and melancholy that people can’t be expected to abandon. Does doing what you’re supposed to do bring you the happiness you were promised—or anything even resembling that happiness? When we’re living in a historical moment in which the answer is no, as is often the case today, we’ll need to watch out. It’s a sign people are being manipulated and abused.

Over time, the tech industry has come to understand that you can manage people en masse by collecting their data and manipulating the messages they receive in social media activity feeds and advertising—and you can make them feel like sovereign individuals at the same time through the very same means. In light of all this, will there ever be a revolution that actually changes the structure of power we’re currently stuck in? Is there a chance to alter this extreme individualism. on the part of people who are surrounded by political systems so enervated, by the supra-governmental system that is global finance capital—which politicians can’t control, and must appease and palliate—that they can’t respond to phenomena like climate change or meaningfully punish atrocities like wars prosecuted on false pretenses? Or are we stuck where we are, in a world that’s corrupt and exhausted? In nations whose governments depend on technologies of surveillance and myths of consumerist abundance or nationalist glory to maintain power, in the absence of any real vision for the future?

It all leads to some interesting takeaways. For one, the way culture reacts to politics and vice versa. As I was watching Can’t Get You Out of My Head, I was reminded of a conversation folks on the Discord server for the Relentless Picnic podcast had had recently about the strange things Richard Dawkins posts on his Twitter account. And it led me to think: when religious “caring conservatism” was in the White House, Richard Dawkins and his New Atheism, this brash repudiation of religion and its pieties, grew as a counterweight. When Obama and his technocratic regime were in power, with social media bringing on a wave of progressivism in popular culture and algorithms presenting us a fantasy of endless choice—much of which was a thin veneer over the same old shit: banks getting bailed out, forever wars going on, productivity rising while wages stagnated—we also got Jordan Peterson-types who claimed to speak to a human need for narrative, even in this point of stability we had seemed to reach, this recovery of sanity after the chaos that was the Iraq War and the financial crisis; who claimed we needed ideas and myths to animate and drive our lives, because they sensed there was something hollow and mendacious driving all this consumer choice, for all it seemed a symbol of our freedom and progress.

Of course, both Peterson and Dawkins are provocateurs, not intellectuals; I don’t mean to dignify the movements they led much, since in both the appearance of intellectual rigor or moral clarity often covered the indulgence of the worst instincts: immaturity, obstinacy, provocation for provocation’s sake, contempt for women and trans people. The New Atheists had a point, and could be absolute assholes about it; they ultimately could be as fundamentalist and dogmatic as any religious people. As for Jordan Peterson, his actual work, in the way of so many grand theorists, uses the appearance of profundity to cover something ultimately pretty banal. And he’s most known for grandstanding in the public sphere—refusing to use people’s pronouns, the usual conservative shit. But these movements do seem to reflect a countercultural response no less than 1960s counterculture reflects a reaction to the staid culture of 1950s America and the sins it covered up.

Which leads me to the question: what was the culture’s response to Trump’s administration? Maybe QAnon and Russiagate, as conspiracies—that is, actual narratives people inhabit to explain the world’s evils, and not just a vague need for them that they satisfied with Jordan Peterson’s light form of Stoicism or his theories of Light and Dark or whatever the fuck. And in that way, perhaps, once a countercultural movement—namely nationalism and Trumpian populism—actually seemed to have overthrown a regime, of Obama-era liberal technocratic management, culture and politics came to mirror each other, rather than standing in opposition to each other. Both became equally conspiratorial and unhinged; in fact, they merged. All the ruling myths and conspiracies mutate in kind these days: Trump’s garbage about draining the swamp, a cover for Trump and his family enriching themselves and Stephen Miller’s like getting to fashion the state they wanted, becomes QAnon’s garbage about rings of child trafficking and pedophilia and Trump, of all people, being their savior—all while actual trafficking and abuse perpetuated by Jeffrey Epstein and his ilk goes unpunished, Epstein’s death swallowed up by the state without a sound—becomes the liberal pundit class’s screaming about Russia: connections between Trump and Putin that were always conjectural to me, because no one who pled them seemed to feel much need to substantiate them.

Here again I feel like what were once centrifugal forces in our culture—between mainstream and the independent media, for example; between people in power and their critics, either in the media or at society’s margins—have collapsed into a single morass. We’re all in hell and there’s no way out.

In all this, what does Biden’s administration represent? Little more than an interregnum, to my mind. How disappointing to see not even a gesture toward forgiving student debt or raising the minimum wage in these first 100 days of his presidency. There’s been some progress in climate legislation, and progress in putting Stephen Miller’s deportation machine to a halt (though they’re also reopening several emergency shelters to accommodate more minors already being held past the mandated limits for keeping them in the custody of the Department of Health and Human Services’s Office of Refugee Resettlement). But there’s also been such triangulation on policy by the administration and its supporters and such complacency on the part of the media covering the administration, refusing to call them out on or even cover this. And how can the average voter respond but with resignation?

Ever since I read Thomas Mann’s Doctor Faustus near the start of lockdown, absorbing the picture of the world pre-World War II that’s presented in that book, I’ve thought we’re in the same sort of moment that Mann’s protagonist Zeitblom was in. There’s a crisis that’s passing over this whole planet like a wave or a seismic event, and no human intervention can interrupt it. We can only wait for it to pass—holding on to whatever’s to hand, waiting to see what the world will look like when it’s over.

[emerald-studies]

Diverse Perspectives | Discussion 1

****Whew, Tumblr deleted this entire post that was in my queue, so if there are mistakes in the transcript, sorry. I still highly, highly, suggest you read as you listen. I’ve added resources so you know what we reference in this discussion.***** 

[ It is required to participate and watch/read these discussions, in order to follow me. Participate or get tf out. We aren’t performative in my lil’ area on Tumblr.

This discussion isn’t representative of an entire population or meant to be super professional. It’s to share different perspectives and also is an opportunity for me to practice what I preach: intersectionality. If you’d like to participate in this series please send me a pm or an ask and I’ll get back to you ASAP. We can do a written, audio, or video interview.]

To open this series, I interviewed Rachel, (AKA @reality-wont-ruin-my-life / @emmettisapowerbottom) for her perspective as a Jewish woman.  

Transcript:

I recommend you read while you listen, I’ve made some clarifications because my ADD brain is shitty when I try to speak words.

(it has also been slightly edited for clarity)

-

Faith: OK, thank you for doing this with me, so I just want your perspective because you are a Jewish woman. 

Rachel: Yes.

F: And I feel ... we don't talk about anti-Semitism enough in the right spaces.

R: Yeah.

F: I think we talk about it ... in history and then, ... it's not even called...I don't even remember it being called anti-Semitism, it was being ... framed as ... with this thing of the past that is around. So, first question for you is, 

Do you believe that by learning about the Holocaust in such an apathetic bland setting, which is a classroom, we are being told anti-Semitism is a thing of the past?

R: Um, I think it has less to do with where we learn, because I do think it's really important to learn about ... the history, but I think the way it's taught is really where the issue comes is that they kind of teach it as this one event that's kind of a standalone thing instead of saying ..., hey, this is a historical pattern. So a lot of people seem to think antisemitism started with the Holocaust when there's thousands of years of history of it before that. And then they think it ended when the US joined the war, which the US didn't even join the war to help the Jews. That's a complete lie. So I think it's important that it's taught. But the way it's taught is, you know, you read The Diary of Anne Frank and you look at a few power points. And everyone stares at the Jewish kid ... us ... to--

F: Omg not to make it about me, but I remember watching ... a Jackie Robinson film and (also) learning about slavery in seventh grade. I was ... the only black person in the room. And they're always ... this *looks behind* it's just ... what? (are you looking at?)

R: I think every kind of minority group has that experience where the class talks about something and just ..., you know, everyone's staring at you.

F: Yeah. So, yeah, I agree with you. ..., context matters and I think ... even the pattern or how even the Holocaust even happened, ... it shouldn’t have happened and we're told we're learning about this, so it doesn't happen again, but what are these teachers telling us? They're not telling us what was the process of basically convincing a whole population that it's OK to kill, mass kill, people? So I feel ... it's not really seen in that context. I mean, at least I went to many different schools and, you know, different history classes. And it never really seemed ... it was deeper, ... it was more of ..., you know, this is your homework is about the Holocaust. It's ... this shouldn't be ... it shouldn't be ... that. I don't know how to explain it ... this is more than just ... a piece of paper that we fill out.

R: Definitely, yeah, I think people kind of get lost in that and think it's just this one unit instead of ..., you know. It decimated ... a third of the world's Jewish population and 90 percent of the Romani population.

F: Yeah, and it, I think that also isn't talked about because I did a whole presentation on, ... the experiments that took place and they took, ...disabled people or differently abled, whatever you prefer...and then I know, ..., multiple minority groups were put in those camps. So I also think it's interesting that I mean, .... I don't know how to explain it, I think by making it just about the Jewish population, it's ... “better” for people. People ... they can put it in a box, right, ... this won't affect me if it happened today. But, you know, if you have a family member that's a part of this group or part of the LGBTQ+ ... they were affected. So it's ... this* isn't just .... A certain people's problem. (*The Holocaust)

R: But at the same time, I feel ... especially when learning about and teachers tend to take her Jewishness out of it so that people can relate to it, ... she was a Jewish woman ......don't.

F: Yeah, it's ... you can humanize someone by just seeing them as human, you don't need to make them ... you don't need to make them fit, you know? Um, do you think the Internet has helped or hurt the Jewish community in terms of information and accessibility to the general public?

R: I say a mix of both because for me personally, ... growing up, I really separated myself from my Judaism at home. I was ..., oh, I don't you know, I think this is something you want to do as kids. It's ... you do your bar mitzvah and then you're just ... gone for awhile and finding ... Jewish people on the Internet really helped me reclaim my connection with my family. And now I study it ... it's my college degree... is Judaic studies and the history. But I've found that it's been really helpful for me finding ... Jewish people on the Internet, but at the same time...... conspiracy theories are a huge thing on the Internet, and so many of them are based on anti Semitism without people even realizing. So I think it's the spread of information and the ability to scapegoat groups from the Internet hurts Jews a lot, but it also really helpful for us in finding community within ... Jewish people.

F: Yeah, ... yeah, I can definitely see that because, I mean, I think that's...I've only ever heard the “pro” of social media is meeting people, like-minded people or different people, which I mean, thank you, Tumblr, because of this... but that's the only pro I've ever heard, is just meeting people. So I just think it's interesting that ..., ... there are all these negative things, you know, ... anti vaxxers..Flat earthers, ... “climate change isn't real”. It's just .... At least we get to meet each other? Look on the bright side, I guess.

R: Oh, yeah. You know, take the good with the bad or whatever. I have, but not to the extent some other people have, because I don't really have ... the stereotypical Jewish, which is ridiculous because you come in every color and everything. And also, I do want to say I don't speak for every Jew, every experience, ... I'm an upper class white woman living in Oregon. So, you know, I have a very different perspective than say and also I'm a certain branch of Judaism citizen. So I have a different perspective from ... a Black Orthodox Jew from New York, it’s going to be a very different lifestyle. So I haven't had death threats anything. I just...a lot of middle school and high school was ... when people would find out I was Jewish. ... Can I say, ... a Holocaust joke.?

F: Ugh 

R: No, know, that's ... everyone when you're a kid, that's their first reaction. When you say things ..., oh, now I can make this joke about ovens and ..., please don't do that.

F: Oh, my God, that's so awful. I don't know why they do that.

R: And then all of a choir director once was ..., Oh ... because I got this solo in this piece that was about Anne Frank. She's ..., Oh, yeah, she even looks ... Anne Frank. I was ..., this was on the radio.

F: That's that's not OK. Oh my gosh. It's .... Look, look, she's not ... this, ... she was gorgeous, obviously, I think everyone's gorgeous, but ... she ... I've seen, ..., her eyes on people (edit: I meant she has common features, like everyone else) ... she's not. Yeah, her features are....Oh, my gosh...., it's just because--

R: the things that are considered stereotypical Jewish features are largely Middle Eastern features, ... it's thick hair, ... kind of bushy eyebrows, the nose with the bump, curly, dark, untamed hair.

F: Yeah, and that's just ... such a large (edit: large population), stereotypes are never really accurate. they're based on something dark, ... really dark. It's ... if you actually look into stereotypes on certain groups, it always has a dark origin. So many people have...ugh I’m not just going to even...

*Rachel’s video cuts out*

F: Ok next question: 

Why do you think people of color are able to be anti-Semitic or kinda just hold anti Semitic beliefs, consciously or subconsciously?

R:  I think a lot of it is the perception that being Jewish is inherently tied to having power, and so a lot of communities look at it as punching up, when that’s not the reality of the situation, so I think when... this goes for every other group I think that because that’s the kinda the stereotypical argument for why people don't like Jews is “Oh, well we control the world so other people were super wealthy we’re super rich so people can say, oh I can hate this group because they’re above me, so I’m punching up.”

F: Mhmmm

R: But you know there are Black Jews, there are disabled Jews, there’s...all these intersections. There’s plenty of poor Jews. So there’s this idea that just because you’re Jewish you’re rich and powerful.

F: Hmm. That’s a really good way to look at that, because you know I kinda do see how that falls into the “Eat the rich” or whatever. Um...and I recently learned, is it true, I probably should’ve researched this before, but is the illuminati Semitic? ... the idea of an illuminati?

R: The concept is, largely because of who they claim are in it. They are largely Jewish people. And also, it’s the same thing with the “lizard conspiracy/the lizard people”, which I was explaining this to my Mom...actually let me find the message...I think his name is David Icke? But he’s the creator of the “lizard conspiracy” and he also is a Holocaust denier who simultaneously believes that Jews funded the Holocaust to get ... attention….

F: *scoffs in disgust and utter confusion*

R: ...and to get people to pity them. And so a lot of people with go after Soros or the Rothschilds and say ... “oh they’re a part of the illuminati, they’re lizard people who are controlling the world.” and so, no, the concept of this elite group that runs the world and many of the people you’re putting in it are Jewish people.

F: Hmmm, oh ok.

R: Also throughout history, this goes way before the Holocaust, this has been going on for 2,000 years but ... Jews have been accused of running the-Jews--with the lizards they’ll say “Oh they’ll eat your kids” or they’ll do this thing. So Jews have been accused of this thing called blood libel, which is ... sacrificing Christian children and drinking their blood. Which never happened, there’s no documented cases of this, but we---there were large mass murders of Jewish people in the middle ages and also for stealing communion wafers. They would say that we would steal them and ...….stab them to ... to try and kill Jesus. Which sounds...... I think when we learned that we all laughed uncomfortably...but no you don’t understand, thousands of Jews were murdered for this….this isn’t a funny thing. And so it's this idea of ... this secret...Jewish society that’s gonna kill your kids, steal all the wealth and even--they’ll try to, David Icke, again, I don’t know if I’m pronouncing his name right, I’m sorry. But--

F: Who cares (if you’re pronouncing his name right) honestly?

R: It’s not anti-Semitic because these Jews who I’m accusing aren’t really human...but yes they are.

F: Yeah

R: These are Jewish people.

F:... any group of people are people...so he’s trying to say Jewish people are alien, so it doesn’t count?

R: Pretty much.

F: *wtf confusion laugh*

R: So I think a lot of times the people who spread the conspiracies don’t know….the prices of it. Once you learn, you dig a little deeper, you can see the issue that comes from it.

F: Do you think um that in that sense that memes can be hurtful--or harmful because of ... you know the illuminati meme. So people don’t know that the concept of the illuminati is essentially anti-Semitic, so do you think ... meme culture is contributing to ignorance?

R: I think yeah to some extent, because when it gets widespread enough you know? It becomes normalized and then when someone tries to speak about it and says, “Hey this thing is problematic” they’ll be ... “Oh no it’s just a joke, you’re taking it too seriously, it has nothing to do with that.” Well, if you look back, ... it does and historically these kinds of “jokes” have led to groups being persecuted. It’s just a matter of if someone tells you something is problematic, don’t brush it off.

F: And I would ... to point out that I made a joke about Mark Zuckerberg being a robot lizard in response to um...him uh trying to buy Native lands and I was like “What?”(when someone said it was Semitic) honestly my brain doesn’t even go to---I don’t research who people are. I don’t know why I didn’t know he was Jewish, I didn’t know. And then I went to I forgot what website I went to, I went through all the stereotypes of Jewish people and I didn’t see anything about “lizard”, but it was ...I was trying to find a way to excuse myself...but if someone tells you its wrong, it’s wrong.

R: And I think it’s about being willing to learn and listen ..., I made those jokes. I didn’t realize until earlier this year what the basis of it all was. So I’ve made plenty of jokes about the illuminati and lizard people….and then started reading things by other Jewish people and I was ... “Oh! I never thought about that.” I didn’t connect the dots and put that all together.

F: Yeah and especially with ... jokes ... they’re so modern, memes are so modern, so when we’re told about anti-semitism being framed as a past thing, we do this. So when we use jokes and stuff--I mean non-Jewish people, I think when we use jokes in general, honestly, about any group, we don’t think “Ok what’s the context of this? What’s the history behind this?” Because---BEYONCE friggin’ singing about the illuminati....

R: *laughs*

F: I mean she was kinda ... dragging it, but the jokes get that big. So I feel ...---I don’t know. I want to publicly apologize for calling Mark Zuckerberg a robot lizard because I thought that was a meme and not based in anti-Semitic language.

R: We’ve all done that so many times.

F: I was talking about how he’s ... a robot and acts weird, so it’s completely on me.

What do you want people to know about your culture?

R: Um, that it’s not a monolith. There’s this ongoing joke in the Jewish community that if you have two Jewish people in a room you’ll have three different opinions.

F: *laughs*

R: So we all practice differently, we all have a different relationship with religion and spirituality and that the big thing is that we’re not this all powerful group. I think it confuses people that Judaism isn’t...first off Judeo-Christian is not real we’re not--Judaism and christianity are very different so I get annoyed when they’re lumped together. “Judeo-Christian values” ... no we have completely different values and beliefs.

F: Yeah

R: I think it really confuses people when I tell them that I don’t believe in God but I still consider myself very Jewish, because it’s so intrinsically tied as this just religious concept but because of the persecution that Jewish communities have faced, it’s taken on this double role as an ethnicity and a religion. So ..., I’m a white person, there’s no way that I’m not white but I’m also a Jewish white person so it's kinda a different path, a different history. And I still have this connection with my Judaism, while at the same time, you know, I haven’t been to synagogue since I was 13, so I don’t believe in higher powers and stuff, at least at this point in my life. That could change, but I think it’s such a part of who we are and there’s that generational trauma that Jews are born with--or at least biological because you’re still just as Jewish if you convert to Judaism, I think there’s also this idea, Oh! My cat just came in...

I think there’s also this idea that when you’re controlling the world you're trying to make everyone like you. But Jews don’t proselytize, Jews aren’t trying to make other people Jewish. Which is very different than the way some other religions operate, where it’s going out and trying to get everyone to agree with you so you can save their soul or whatever...

F: Mhm

R: Also when it comes to--this is less for Judaism, this is for every group, ya know I was talking about um The BLM protests and using dark humor. In my experience at least, I think the groups that are affected can use dark humor about it. So ..., Black people can make jokes about police brutality, I can’t make jokes about police brutality because it’s not affecting me personally, so I feel ... Jewish people, we wanna make Jew jokes between ourselves, that’s fine, but when other people make jokes ... ok now it’s uncomfortable because of that power imbalance, ‘cause you haven’t faced a holocaust or gone through these things I’ve gone through as a Jewish person, and I haven’t gone through these other things. So I think when people make a joke “Oh I have a dark sense of humor, I like to use dark humor to cope” well it’s not ... your trauma to cope with. I think that’s with every group that’s gone through something...there’s certain dark humor that you can’t use.

F: Yeah that’s such a good way to put it because ... you may be coping with other things but it’s not the thing you’re talking about, so why do you need to cope with the jokes about that? I’ve heard, anti-Semitic jokes and I’m ... “What the-” *leans back* from ... non- Jewish people and….who is that for? How is that make you feel better as a human? I was like: “Why are you doing this? Shut up.”

R: Yeah.

F: They know it’s wrong...it’s like the “edgy” 4chan type of thing ... *~I’m so edgy~* No your’e not. Personally, I think you’re weak if you can’t come up with a joke that doesn’t hurt a group of people

R: Oh yeah. Oh and then another thing I’d ... people to realize about Judaism is for one….the issue of Judaism and anti-Semitism is separate from the issue of Israel/Palestine and anti-Zionism and also not every Jew has the same opinion on it and we’re not all experts on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, so you don’t need to derail every discussion with “Oh what are your thoughts on Palestine? Do you support Palestine? Do you support Israel?” Because it’s so separate, and such a complex issue. You know because I was born Jewish doesn’t mean that I automatically have this innate knowledge of the entire conflict. It can kinda be used as a way to derail people when talking about anti-Semitism we face, ya know you’ll--I’ve seen this a lot on TikTok where people will make videos talking about things they face and a lot of the comments are “Free Palestine”...well they didn’t mention Palestine, we don’t know their views on Palestine. Just ‘cause you’re Jewish that doesn’t make you a Zionist, just---I’m sure people who have Palestinian heritage doesn’t make you anti-Zionist, ya know? They're separate issues and people ... to lump them into one…..and if someone says that anti-Zionism is treading into Semitism, then we should listen to them because they’re two separate things and you can protest in Israel and not be falling into anti-Semitic tropes. 

F: Right, that’s such a complex subject. I would never ask someone straight up: “Who’s side are you on?!”  because it’s so, so complex. I remember I tried to dedicate a whole day to just researching, “Ok what’s going on?” and it’s just ... so much information it’s just hard because I don’t even want to speak on it because it has nothing to do with me, so I was just trying to get--I remember when it was on the news a lot, right? I’m like trying to understand what you guys are saying, so I like to do background researching and oh my gosh, I can’t imagine summing up your opinion in one sentence about that or why you chose this side and not that. It’s so varied.

R: Ya know I’m still learning about it, I don’t know that much about it so ya know when I try to talk about this Jewish thing they’ll be ... “Oh! What are your thoughts on the  Israeli-Palestinian conflict?” I’m just ... *raises hands up* “I don’t know, I need time to learn more”

F: Yeah it’s like *looks at phone* “hold on a sec (while I research more on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict and get back to ya)”

How do you see yourself in your country?

R: Um...it’s complicated because I’m from a privileged family in a privileged area so I know I have intrinsic power in this country, Judaism is easier to hide than other things. You can’t look at me and know I’m Jewish whereas you could look at a Black person and know they’re Black, you could look at a Muslim wearing a headscarf and know they’re Muslim. So it’s much easier to get away with things, I’m not going to be profiled until I open my mouth and say something about my Judaism, but at the same time, there is that fear because we’ve seen it before, Jews in Germany weren’t identifiable by looking at them but it’s on their birth certificate and they started rounding up. So I do get that little pang of panic every time I see “Jewish cemetery desecrated” or “Swastikas drawn on synagogue”...last time I went to synagogue was after the Tree of Life shooting, I went in solidarity and there was ... armed guards outside and it was so scary thinking about “Oh my God there could be a bomb threat, there could be a shooter.” and there’s this idea where I know I have privilege and I know I’m in a position of power but at the same time, ... I know that I have to be ready to flee if something happens, because every few generations of Jews have had to do that, for thousands of years now. So it’s all complex intertwined identity, where-so I call myself “Conditionally white”, I benefit so much from white privilege and everything except my Judaism is white, white, white but then there’s at the same time, I wasn’t considered white under the defining whatever, where you write down your race, in the eyes of the US until ... the 50s. They had white and Jewish as two separate ethnicities or races. It’s such a weird place to be.

F: Yeah and of course, I know you say you are/look white so you have all this privilege and stuff but at the same time, being scared of sharing a part of you that’s...an average white person doesn’t have to be scared of ... saying “Oh I believe this” and then if you feel the fear of sharing that, just in general or fear of a hate crime, that is very valid. And I think sometimes we forget that.

R: It’s interesting sometimes hearing people talk about Judaism. They think of it as this “Oh taking over the world, there’s gotta be a lot of them” it’s ... well, there’s 14 million of us in the world right now, about a third are in Israel, the US has 1.5 million. Compared to that, probably half the world's population is Christian. There's 1 or 2 billion Muslims, we’re a very small group comparatively.

F: I do think the illuminati thing perpetuates that so much, subconsciously or unconsciously….although it’s supposed to be a “smaller group” or whatever but still they make it ... this huge thing kinda framed like Scientology. It’s so weird that people don’t--I’ve heard many Christians claim that “I’m scared to say I’m Christian” and it's just ... that’s so valid for you and I’m not disregarding your experience...the historical context behind it, even people who are Muslim and all these hate crimes...I don’t think I’ve ever seen a hate crime against a Catholic church...

R: Not in a very long time and when it has been, it’s usually between Christian sects.

F: Yeah, that too,  infighting. I dunno where I was going with that. *laughs* but I know what you mean by blowing up this population to be a “threat”. I think that happens with any group that someone disagrees with like the “liberals” “antifa” they blow it up to huge populations, ... “Oh my gosh we’re being invaded!” I’m surprised that more people haven’t seen with, you know the steps to genocide, that’s one of the things (steps), it’s making this group of people a “threat” that’s “invading” a space...I’m surprised that people don’t see that about any group but especially about the Jewish community, AGAIN! That’s not the first time! It’s just constant, there’s no breaks!

R: Yeah that’s most of Jewish history since other major religions came in….you know we haven’t been in power since Christianity came in.

What’s the biggest misconception bout your community?

R: Um, I’d say probably getting back to that rich/powerful thing. Just the, ya know that and the Israeli-Palestinian conflict thing. Those are the two things I hear the most and also Holocaust deniers..which I don’t know why there are so many but there are like or the people who say “Oh yeah it happened but it’s not as bad as they make it seem.”. 

F: Sooo stupid. I just can’t imagine denying any sort of crime against humanity, .. I can’t even talk about it, it makes me so pissed. 

Do you feel like there is adequate representation of your community in the media?

R: Um I think we definitely have more representation than other groups...but I find it to be kind of more one track or stereotypical so it doesn’t show ... the breadth of the Jewish community. The only show about Jews is Unorthodox and that kinda portrays Orthodox Judaism in a not great light. But I think there’s a lot more Jewish….you know they used to say “Jews control Hollywood” because a lot of actors and directors were Jewish and it’s ... “Well, maybe we’re just creative?”

F: *laughing*

R: So theres a lot of famous Jews and I guess a lot of Hollywood producers are Jewish but I think when it comes to actual characters, we don’t see practicing Jews that aren’t relying on stereotypes. But I don’t think the media is particularly targeted harmful to Jews the way it’s targeted other communities.

F: What do you think about the movies about the Holocaust that come out every year? And I’m not saying anything against them, I’m just curious what your take on that is because it’s interesting that I see a lot of these movies come out right? But in school it’s a day lesson, but the media keeps on talking about it. Do you appreciate that? Do you wish the content was better? 

*both laugh*

R: I think some are better done than others. I prefer, my area of study is the Holocaust, so I have to submerse myself in all that stuff because that’s what my thesis is going to be on, it’s frustrating sometimes to see the fictionalized stories pushed over the real ones, especially the ones that have Christian charac---Boy in the Striped Pajamas made sob when I first watched it. Then I watched it again and I realized you’re only side because the little Christian kid dies.

F: *gasps in awe/mind blown* Ugh you gotta put that somewhere and share it because that’s such a good point!

R: And then there's, there was drama about some of the Holocaust books and they were ... hey “this  isn’t a real story this didn’t happen but your pushing it as a real story”. So I….there’s so many real life tragedies that sometimes it seems a little weird that  you create your fake characters about it. But at the same time, I do enjoy Holocaust movies ... I do consume content but there does seem ... a weird disproportionate obsession with it. I’ve said this to my family, I don’t really trust non-Jews who are super into WW2. ... there’s something about it, why are you so into it? “... I think it’s cool how that could happen, it’s cool to think about how….” I don’t really trust your motives, there’s something off to me. I think when it’s their personality is ... WW2! Holocaust!...Why are you so invested in this? 

F: Oh my gosh yeah. Do you think there could be more movies about real people in real stories? ... I’ll look at “Is this movie true” (On google) ... The Boy in the Striped Pajamas So (I looked up) “Is this true” and it said, “Ummm no.” and it’s like... OK but wouldn’t it be more impactful to have real stories that are told?

R: I think so to some extent but I also don’t think they should do it without permission and sometimes there isn’t someone’s permission to ask.

F: Right.

R: But you don’t want those stories to die, you know if there’s a family left and this story is important and you don’t want it to get lost in the books but you know, so much has already been taken from the Jewish community...you have to weigh whether or not it’s worth it to contribute to that to get a story out there.

Do you think some directors and writers choose to make a story about the Holocaust as Oscar bait? 

R: Probably. I think tragedies tend to do well in the awards circuit and I think tragedies about white people especially tend to do well. So I think if you...have this event, something that everyone knows about, everyone knows about the Holocaust, and they go “Ok well they’re not going to turn down this story about this kid in the Holocaust”. I don’t know every director's intention, there could be some who want to get the story out there. But I do think it’s easier to get something about a major historical event.

Do you feel that Jewish people are put in a box, only being seen as victims?

R: I’d say it’s usually the opposite. I’d feel ... both sides of the political spectrum put Jewish people in this box of “oppressor”.

F: Mhmmm

R: You see it because it’s one of those groups that gets hit on both sides. Where ... a lot of people say “Oh yeah well in the Holocaust you were all the victims.” which doesn’t annoy me because you’ll see these people say “They just willingly got on the carts to drive to camps and no one fought back.” well, no there were militias there were uprisings. They weren't just happily getting on these buses and not fighting for their lives. So I do think there’s a lot of victimization when it comes to the Holocaust, but a lot of people say “That was in the past, now no one’s attacking the Jews, no one’s doing anything so they’re taking advantage of us”. So I think in a historical context Jews are placed in a box of victimhood but in a modern context, it’s flipped.

F: Hm. How do you see left v. right, can you explain how you’ve seen each group take hits at the Jewish community?

R: Yeah

F: Kinda ... just a few points for people to watch and look out for?

R: The right is pretty much what you’d expect, neo-Nazis, swastikas, SS tattoos which is not fun, I don’t like seeing those. You see these white supremacists and I think on the left, they think all the Jews in that group are included in the white supremacy, when we’re explicitly excluded, we are not considered white by white supremacist standards. But you see the left use Steven Miller and Jared Kushner who, you know, they’re Jewish, they’re also terrible people but they happen to be Jewish...and them being terrible doesn't make them not Jewish but you see people like that...from the left we see a lot more of the anti-semitism coming out kinda disguised by anti-Zionism.

F: Mhmm

R: Again, I think there are perfectly valid reasons to be anti-Zionist. Another issue I have that the left like to do, which sometimes is valid and sometimes isn’t, is comparing things to the Holocaust.

F: Mhmm

R: Sometimes I think that’s…..can compare something, especially if Jewish people are saying that “Hey, these are things that we were seeing happening in Nazi Germany that we’re seeing now.” I remember getting really upset when I was seeing vegans compare animal farming to the Holocaust and ... yeah I have a lot of issues with the meat industry but don’t conflate those two things ‘cause its basically saying Jewish people are cattle. That’s how it comes out to the Jewish people.

F: Yeah I just looked up, I just wanted to make sure, yeah I have definitely heard that in the vegan community and it does bother me, um...I um feel like genocide is a better way to put it because it’s a mass killing of a population, the Holocaust-

R: Yeah the Holocaust is tied to a specific event. 

F: Yeah, so I have also seen a video of a Holocaust survivor who went vegan, who compared it to the Holocaust, but I think that is his right.

R: Yeah when you are affected. If someone is from a group and critiquing a way a group is handling something, ok I’ll listen to your side of this but when it’s an outsider, I’m not sure you have a say in that.

F: No, and even the way the Holocaust happened, the steps to the Holocaust didn’t happen to animals, the animals weren’t stereotyped, they weren’t vilified. I don’t think it’s accurate.

R: At the same time I don’t think it’s just comparing everything to the Holocaust, just listen to Jewish people when we start saying, “Hey, this is looking eerily similar.”. I remember in 2015/16 I remember saying, “Hey when you look at his platform,” I’m sure we all know who he is--

*laughs*

R: “he has pretty much the textbook definition of fascism.” “Oh no, he doesn’t have this one step, it’s fine.” And then he’ll pass that step and it’s like, “Hey guys, I told you we’ve seen this before….these are the 14 steps and we’re at like 12 now.”

F: Yeah and you’ve studied it so you’d think that people would listen to you.

R: Yeah I started learning about the Holocaust, probably ... first grade in Hebrew school. Ya know ... I’ve seen all these pict---also if people could not just share these Holocaust pictures, constantly without any warning, ... those are photos that are traumatic to a lot of us. Now, I’m used to seeing them again because it’s what I study but you see people, they’ll share things, when they’re comparing to the Holocaust, they’ll put like a Holocaust photo...you know those are people ... that I know. Those are my Grandparent’s friends, those are the parents of one of my teachers. I feel like people forget, they lump it into the numbers “Oh yeah 6 million Jews died”, but yeah each of those 6 million was a person. So when you post a photos, piles of dead bodies, those are people. 

F: I don’t agree with that either, even our presentations we would do about the Holocaust, it didn’t feel right seeing these people put behind a title.

R: I feel like people get swept up by the numbers that they forget it’s people. It’s real people who went through this. And it’s sad because we’re getting to that time because the last of the Holocaust survivors are reaching the end of their lifespan, so it’s gonna be harder and harder to have people come in and tell you firsthand, which helps to humanize it. 

F: Yeah and especially the deniers, what going to happen when these people--and thank goodness they survived, hopefully they have a peaceful passing, but once they’re gone they’re going to be like “Oh no one has been there….”

R: So another thing, I went to a racist white high school. We had a lot of issues, we had 3 Black people at my school and we had issues with graffiti slurs against the Black people, so they brought in a Holocaust survivor to talk about tolerance, but it was very propaganda. So this Holocaust survivor came in and talked about how they befriended one of the nazi guards and I was like “This is not the story that we need to be sharing…

F: Wh-what?

R:... this nazi guard and this Jewish person became friend like that’s not how it is for the 99.9% of them. Don’t use it as your propaganda for tolerance saying “Yeah the victims and the ones who are hurting them should just like this person should just forget about what happened to them and just be friends with them.” So I think it’s just used as propaganda a lot instead of letting it stand as the story it is. 

F: Or even “taking the high road”. Just like pretending you love everybody, “I love the people who did this to my family, my community”

R: It makes the people who don’t (take the high road) seem like they’re being irrational...hey I don’t like Nazis, I support punching Nazis then like “Hey you need to preach tolerance.” no they murdered people I know.

F: Yeah I’ve even, I’ve only seen one Nazi-Nazi in Nevada in person, it’s just ......he was wearing a Deutschland shirt, it’s just so crazy how--I made a post about this, and he just looked so weak, that always stuck with me. He looked so weak and insecure, and I’m like you should feel that way because there are so many groups of people who are stronger with their bonds with each other, like the Jewish community or any community, that you should feel weak because you just want to be an angsty little white boy. Side note: he looked me in the eyes and I looked at him back and he left. So….

*laughs*

F: That was only a fraction of what you feel. I feel ... we’re so desensitized to swastikas, I mean I haven’t seen one as graffiti, but the image, I feel we are too desensitized to that.

R: Oh yeah I get frustrated with people who say “We need to reclaim the swastika”.

F: *Laughs* “Noo”

R: I get you wanna reclaim if but it’s too far gone. It’s traumatizing for the Jewish community, I get it used to be the symbol of peace…

F: Right

R: But it’s just not what that is anymore.

F: I mean that’s why it was taken, I’m sure you’ve studied this, but that’s why Hitler got people to jump on board because it’s this pretty picture of this “peaceful future”. So taking it back would almost be like...that’s where it started and look at where we are...

R: I personally haven’t come across Jews who want to reclaim it, it’s non-Jews. And there might be Jews who want to, I don’t know every Jew on Earth but the ones I’ve interacted with are all uncomfortable seeing swastikas. And you know when I see those photos of swastikas on this Jewish cemetery destroying the grave, it’s ... I can’t help picture that with my Grandparent’s graves, ... oh what if this was where my family was buried.

F: Yeah in my hometown there was a lot of that going around, just everywhere, it’s just disgusting. The fact that non-Jewish people suggested reclaiming that? That’s just disgusting and inappropriate. You don’t have a right to-- for anyone watching, you don’t have a right to go up to a Jewish person and say “No but I wanna do this” no, that’s not right, if it doesn’t apply to you, don’t speak on it. Or try to reclaim anything. I’m done with reclaiming things. When you said “non-Jewish people” I thought that you were talking about your Jewish friends who thought “You know maybe we could take it back…” 

R: No.

F: Deadass

R: No all the Jewish people I know don’t like seeing swastikas and have no interest in seeing them in our lives. 

F: Like understandably, it’s not even crazy! I wouldn’t. Ugh. 

What would you like to see more of from allies?

R: Um, I think more listening, I like this kind of stuff, just having a conversation. Just not speaking for us and just amplifying our voices. And again, not conflating Judaism and Christianity. Not being like “Oh our Judeo-Christian values” Jews aren’t good because they’re related to this Christian thing, no it’s our own thing, it’s very different religion. And even if what the Jewish person is saying something you don’t agree with, just listen at least and say your side, you know we’re not a monolith. We aren’t one person with one mind. We aren’t going to agree on everything, and you know if someone said that something you said was anti-Semitic, don’t get defensive, let them explain why and try and be better. Because we’re not going around saying every single thing is anti-Semitic.

F: Of course, you have a reason

R: Call out celebrities when they promote dangerous things.

F: Yeah like dangerous ideas. I would like to personally work on what things are inherently anti-Semitic and have been popularized so I know and can share that info.

R: And also for the stuff I’ve seen recently, when people seem to be calling out anti-Semitism they call it out a lot more strongly with Black people and that’s a problem. Black people can be anti-Semitic, we saw that with Nick Canon, we saw that with Luis Farakesh, (Edit: She meant Louis Farrakhan)

F: Ice cube

R: We’ve seen Black celebrities say anti-Semitic things and also white celebrities so don’t just call it out when it’s just Black people. I’ve been following some Black dudes on twitter who are saying “Hey this makes me really uncomfortable. Why are you going so hard against this person and not against this person?” 

F: Yeah I guess I never thought about that with the Nick Canon thing. That was a mess. 

R: Yeah and what he said was completely wrong. 

F: I heard so many different versions of what he said, ... “Black people are beautiful” but wait no that’s not what he said

*laughs*

F: I do think um my question about POC people being anti-Semitic was based on Ice Cube, honestly. That shocked me, I was shocked, my jaw fell when he posted an anti-semitic image, not a swastika. How can you want support and then do this? So...

R: I think it’s the idea that they’re punching up.

F: Yeah, I’m glad you mentioned looking for how people react to a POC being anti-Semitic V. a white person because I can’t even recall the last time I heard a white person like be called out, or dragged/cancelled as much as Nick Canon. 

R: Yeah you’ll see it with the right-wing politicians, they’ll get called out, but you don’t see it from the moderates or left wing celebrities, even though they’re also out there saying things.

F: Like anyone can be anti-Semitic anyone can be racist and I think that’s why I want to share your perspective to help a little bit, because even your friends and family can be saying stuff like this, it’s important to not let it slip through (and think) “Oh they didn’t mean that”...address it. I hope this helps in some way. Thanks for letting me interview you

R: Thanks for wanting to interview me.

F: No problem. I’m gonna stop this and then we can talk a lil’ privately. Byeeee

R: Bye.

Let’s have a discussion! Did you learn anything new from this conversation?

Let me know here.

-

To close out each post, I’d like to write a lil’ paragraph about the person I talk with:

Rachel is kind and expresses her thoughts skillfully. Her resilience is deeply apparent because she’s able to study the horrific history of her people and still stay sane. That is a feat I could never, ever, live up to. Reliving pain takes such a huge amount of strength and power. Rachel’s kind words (and others’ from in the egg gang ;) ) really helped me when I was in a dark spot. I’m blessed that you took the time to talk with my wacky self. I hope we continue to be friends and I also hope you know that I’m always here for you, Rachel, as you were there for me. 

You are a treasure. 

-Faithxx

[ghostly-rantings]

"the climate issue is not her fault", while it may not be all her fault

she isnt exactly making it any better, either

so she's not only contributing to climate change on a massive scale, her concerts are also so poorly put together that they're basically greenhouses and now a woman, ana benevides, has died because of her irresponsibility & lack of care for others

she needs to speak about this, say her name, say that shes sorry for ana's death, apologise to her family & do what she needs to do to prevent it from happening again & make this right. this is absolutely unacceptable and inexcusable from someone who can afford to fly her private jet all over the place constantly and destroy the planet, basic safety precautions & kindness to fellow human beings wont put a dent in her funds, nor would making things right for the family and covering the costs of everything, full refund, funeral, transport, & all + grievance/pain and suffering costs

i hope ana benevide's family & loved ones get to have peace and that everything goes well for them going forward despite this tragedy

what happened with taylor swift? i heard about the fan dying but not much else

Ana Benevides, a 23-year-old black woman died during Taylor Swift's concert in Rio, and her family doesn't even have the money to transport her body back to their city. Apparently, Taylor spoke superficially about this, not even mentioning the victim's name. Furthermore, a thousand more people became ill during the show because of the heat. It was around 60°C (140° F) there. The show's production team even placed metal sheets on the floor that made it even hotter, blocked the air vents so that no one could see the show from outside, and didn't let people come in with bottles of water, you had to buy it inside, but was being sold at an exorbitant price.

The problem is that Taylor is a billionaire, she could very well have avoided all of this. And now that it's happened, she's doing absolutely nothing to help. Brazilian fans who had to raise money on their own to help Ana's family.

Obviously, the climate issue is not her fault, but the entire country has been on alert for weeks because of the heat. Crowding people together in these conditions is completely wrong. Both her team and the company they hired should have taken more responsibility.

They even canceled the second show, but it was at the last minute after fans spent hours queuing under the hot sun. And in the last show she did here yesterday, she didn't comment on the girl who died, nor did she mention anything.

[jessiebanethedragon]

Scuttle, all chapters in one post

Thought it might be kinda nice to have the full story in one post... idk.  

The mission, simple. The planet, a shit show. But that's hardly unusual for Clone Force  99. The elite team of four clones were used to disasters, in fact, they thrive off of them. Arkanis was no different, a rainy planet located in the outer rim. Currently held under control via the separatists. The republic needed to change that, and so of course when their informant’s identity was leaked, they sent the most capable team they had to extract them. 

Enter - The Bad Batch. 

“Did you know this planet is made up of over 10,000 different species, all localized to it’s rainforest biosphere?” Tech was chattering as usual while the team geared up. Assembling their armour and double checking weapons before dropping out of hyped space. 

“How many of those wanna kill us?” Wrecker asked beyond the metallic thunk of his durasteel clicking into place. 

“Does not say, but given Arkanis’s tropical climate i would estimate that most of the life forms are plants.” Tech said clicking about on his holopad. 

“Vod, in here now.” The Sergeant called from the brig of the Havoc Murdader, having already assembled his armour and stashing away his viroblades. “Here's the info we got from Cody.” Hunter said, pulling up a  map of the planet’s capital. 

“It’s a kriffing death trap.” Crosshair barked out looking at the maze of intervening trees, houses and streets, all covered with various mosses, vines and other plants. 

“We’ll have to go solo on this one.” Hunter added. “We need to cover ground quickly  and quietly, remember this is an active warzone so while blasts will blend in we want minimal casualties.” With a flick of his hand he moved the holo so it showed a different area. 

“This is their last known coordinates, we’ll drop ten clicks from here and fan out. Tech?” Hunter looked to his brother, waiting for him to take over and tell them how to go about searching for the informant. 

“There's no choice but to head in all  directions, checking each house, that's our best bet, without a speeder they wont have been able to leave the city.”

“And if they did have a speeder?” Crosshair piped in, attaching an intricate looking scope to his rifle. 

“Well, then, I hope you like rain because we’re stuck there until we find the snitch.” Hunter added. “Wrecker, Tech, let's get this show going.” Crosshair watched his brother’s jump to the front of the ship, rolling the toothpick in his mouth around.

“Sarge.” He said, “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

Like usual it was chucking it down on Arkanis, the sky was dark by midday and everyone was wrapped in layers of weather proof fabric. There was no wind today, no sunlight, just buckets and buckets of cooling rain. She watched as the droids started ushering people around, being pushed aside by one herself to make way for the spider droids that were crawling the city. She cursed herself for not noticing it sooner, the anxiety of getting caught was dulling her senses. Focus and precision were not things she could go without right now. 

“Yona!” Your mother called, when you had picked yourself up again. Crossing the uneven street with practiced ease. 

“I’m fine mama.” You assured her. She clutched to your clothing like a madwoman. Peering at the droids through the rain. 

“Return to your homes.” the closest one said, before pointing it’s blaster at the both of you. Causing you to latch onto your mother's arm and take off as  fast as you could down the street. 

You pushed the door to your small home open with your knees, the latch had long broken and the door itself did not slide open properly anymore. The tips and edges of your hair were soaked, eyelashes heavy and hands slightly shaking. 

“Papa?” you called into the emptiness that was your house, cold wooden floors and windows left open  allowing the rain to make its way inside. The seprastist propaganda was playing through the Holopad on the main table. 

“Yona.” he said softly, sitting on the chair in the main room. None of the lights were on, the warm glow of homeliness wasn't there, and a feeling of dread settled in your stomach. “What have you done?” he asked gravely. 

“What are you talking about?” You faked innocence, there was no way he could know, you’d been so careful in hiding the transmissions. Flicking the light switch on the biggest lamp in the room you began to shed your outer clothing. 

“Yona…” he started again, and you turned at his voice, shrieking when you saw the figure standing at the end of the room. 

“I have to say…” General Krexx hissed out, the separatists trandoshan calmly turned towards you. “I’m almost impressed by how long you managed to remain undetected, little republican.” Without thinking you turned to the door and bolted out into the rain, weaving through the rocks and foliage as fast  as you could. 

“Go on, scuttle away little roach. Get a good head start.” Krexx laughed, before reaching to his communicator to hail his trandoshan guard. “You’ll need it.” 

Crosshair quickly decides he likes the rain. It’s got a way of blending in so nicely with the rest of the planet that he thinks it would be bland without it.

“Anything?” Hunter asked into the comms, and various grunts and groans of ‘negative’ filled his ear. They’d landed in what looked like an abandoned house, it was situated in the branches of a very tall, and very old tree. How anyone would have managed to climb it was a mystery. 

“How do we even know what we’re lookin’ for?” Wrecker grumbled as they rapelled down the enormous trunk. 

“All we’ve got is that they answer to the name Wren apparently its some animal on this planet.” Hunter grumbled, looking over a tech, expecting a lengthy explanation of what exactly a ‘Wren’ was. 

“Fairywren are small birds that  live in typical families of small groups, they come in brilliant colours of purple and blue. Very rare in the galaxy, but common to this planet.” Tech immediately replied, as their feet crunched into the ground. 

“Okay, Bad batch, let's make this quick.” The sergeant ordered before taking off into the undergrowth. 

It had been hours and they were no closer to coming across anyone or  anything that looked like a Fairywren. Keeping to the outskirts of a small town crosshair watches as a group of Trandoshian guards (from the look of their intense armour) patrolled the streets. 

“What are they doing?” he thought aloud to himself, toothpick ever present in his mouth. His concentration broke when he heard someone laughing at him. A group of teenagers were sitting under a broken piece of metal. 

“What does it look like, Laserbrain?” one of them sneered. “The trandoshans are only good for one thing. The hunt.” Crosshair doubled his pace. 

You were running faster than you ever had before, and for longer than you thought was physically possible. Your one and only advantage was the extent of your knowledge of the forest paths. The guards would be faster and run longer, they had keener senses than any human, and you knew if they put out a warrant, anyone and everyone would turn you in. But you were so close. So, so close. 

It was called the Night Lake by the locals, the canopy here was so dense no light illuminated the water below, giving the area a terrifying essence. But also ensured much needed privacy, and in this particular case, somewhere to hide. You threw yourself into the waters, letting the slightly chilly water envelop you. At least four of them had been on your tail and you knew more of them were waiting at the edge of the city, should you try and circle back. 

You swam as deep as you could manage, before stilling in the water, suspended in perfect anxiety as you watched its surface for any movement. Flares began to light up the dark sky and the water below as they tried to clear the area for your whereabouts. Closing your eyes you prayed to anything listening for them not to find you. 

Turns out. No one was listening. 

Crosshair was sprinting in the forest, creatures disturbed by his arrival scattered in every direction. The Trandoshians had taken off moments before answering a call that he couldn't interpret. But his experience and intuition told him to follow. 

It was then that he faltered and fell down the edge of a small but very muddy hill, being followed only by more water filled dirt that almost buried him. Cursing he pulled himself up, checking his whereabouts for signs of a trap. 

“So small for such trouble.” Something hissed to his right, clearly unaware of the clone that had just tumbled into their presence. His eyes snapped forward, four trandoshians sat at the edge of what was the largest and darkest lake Crosshair had ever seen. 

“Shall we let her drown or yank her out ourselves?” One asked with a snicker. 

“The general wants her alive, something about having fun while making an example.” The first one spoke again. “Right, enough is enough, Drisk get her out of there.” with a nod towards the water, Crosshair watched as the slimmest trandoshan (who was probably still twice the size of the sniper) dove into the black waters. The ripples dissipated for a moment before the reptile emerged carrying a struggling young girl. She was sopping wet, and struggling and turning so much they had no choice but to dump her in the mud. 

“Now, now little roach, don't run off.” The leader laughed as she started to claw her way through the mud, reaching down he grasped her ankle and yanked her into the arms of the other two reptilians. Crosshair lined up his rifle, he could take out the two grasping the girl and then worry about the leader after. He had the trandoshans in his sight when his comm crackled to life again. 

“Crosshair, you missed your check in time, you still out there?” it was Tech, curse him and his punctuality. Because now the other two huge beings were dragging him out of his hiding place. 

“Well, would you take a look at this. A clone!” Crosshair was forced to his knees in front of the leader as it spat at him.   

“Crosshair! Come in!” Tech shouted into the helmet, thus resulting in it’s not-so gentle removal from Crosshairs head. He watched as Tech’s voice faded away as the bucket rolled into the lake. 

“Now that the rude interruption is gone, you wanna tell us whatcha up to in these parts?” he said kneeling down and meeting his newest captive eye to eye.

“Bird watching.” Crosshair deadpanned. Really not feeling in a chatty mood at that present moment.  

“Really?” The reptile hummed in thought, pretending to actually believe his answer. “Have you seen any birds yet?” 

“No.” Crosshair told  him with a smile, “Saw some Bantha-shit - looking lizards though.” He didn't see the flying fist coming, but he sure as hell felt it. 

You clamp you both of your hands over your mouth. Hard. in the smallest attempt to muffle your screams. You can't tell the difference from lake water, rain water, and tears. But you know you’re wailing at an unforgiving volume. Your mother's blank eyes stare at you. A single blaster to the head. Your father, you got a blaster to the face is now unrecognizable. You don’t know which is worse. Krexx didn't even bother to keep you restrained, knowing that the horror of what he made you witness would be enough to paralyze you into compliance. The sound of conflict falls on deaf ears as you continue to shriek from your converter of what once was the family home. 

The Clone, whose name you either didn't know or couldn't remember, was cuffed to one of the ceiling's support beams by a pair of binders, only just coming to a hit to the head like that will do you in. you watch him lift  his head with a groan, the tattoo on his face covered by layers of mud. He starts pulling at the binders before his eyes meet the figure in the corner. 

You’re curled in a fetal position, still screaming bloody murder into your hands. And barely, Crosshair sees that the fingerless gloves you wear are embroidered with a bird. A bright blue bird. 

“Wren.” He grunted out, the pieces all coming together as his brain shakes the fuzz away. You don't move. “Wren!” he shouts over your tears. And you fall into more of a silent sob, looking over at him. “I need you to get these off of me.” he gestures to the binders with a shake of his hands. You recoil in the corner and shake your head, your cries are picking up volume again. 

“Wren, please” Crosshair all but begs. The sound of battle is getting closer and closer. “I need you to uncuff me.” his voice  barely registers in your brain. You know you have to move but you feel like you physically can't. There’s no fight or flight left in you, and it appears your entire system has short circuited as a result.   

“We are both going to die if you don’t get me out of  these kriffin’ binders!” Crosshair renewed his struggles as he shouts at you. But one look at you says that would be a preferable outcome for your current state. So, he switches tactics and tries to remember everything tech has ever told him about shock and trauma. 

“Wren,” he tries once again, softer this time. “I can help you, I can help you out of this. But i can't do that if you don't get these off of me.” Your eyes meet his. ‘Progress’ he thinks. You don't know how you do it, but you try to stand. 

“Just keep looking at me, okay?” The clone who you don't know speaks again, and your eyes meet his. You stare not into his eyes, more like past them. You're not focusing on anything you're just taking one step after another until you reach where he’s awkwardly strewn up. “There's a release button on the-” He starts to tell you, but you're already reaching up with shaky hands and fumbling around until they drop to the floor with a horrible clank. Immediately Crosshair jumps into action checking by each window and door and gathering all he can in terms of intel. 

“We need to move, before anyone-” he trails off again when he’s seen that you’ve slid down the wall that he was against. Curling back into a ball. Slowly, he approaches you. He knows the protocol for a clone with shock, but what you're going through looks completely different all together. And Crosshair, well, let's just say there was never any training for caring for a civilian girl whose entire life just got destroyed. 

“My name is Crosshair.” He whispers to you, crouching down to our height. You look at him with wide eyes. “Is it okay if I carry you to a safer spot?” You nod in response fumbling with your arms to lock them around his tall frame. His strength surprises you, as he lifts you with relative ease. And slowly the adrenaline wears off and you sink into his arms, vaguely you feel him pull your head into his shoulder the blasts sound deafening now as he runs through the uproar caused by the execution of an innocent family. Your family. Crosshair tells himself he pulls you closer so that you are not recognized. And that he does it so you don't have to see that carnage. But mostly he does it in hopes that you feel just a little more safe, and a little more calm in his arms.   

You don't remember passing out in the troopers arms, waking only when he sets you down, in front of the tree that's all too familiar to you. It’s raining  even more now and Crosshair feels particularly inadequate as he paces in front of you. What do you tell someone who’s just lost everything? 

“Crosshair…” Your voice is quite as you say his name, he whips around at the sound, terrified someone had followed him into the forest. He waits for your next words, and it takes a moment but a small ‘thank you’ leaves your mouth. He nods and goes back to pacing in front of you. 

The crashing sound breaks both of you out of your perspective trances. Something is moving towards you, and quickly. In response, you haul yourself up off of the rainforest floor. Looking to the man in front of you for direction. 

“It’s fine.” He tells you, monotone. “Jus’ Wrecker.” You’re not sure what a Wrecker is, but quickly you discover a Wrecker happens to be Crosshair's older and much bigger brother. 

“Crosshair!” He booms, when he clears the undergrowth, clapping a rather large hand on  his shoulder, and you watch as the trooper takes a step backwards. ‘Not one for touchy-feels’ you think to yourself. 

“Ran into some trouble, bucket got chucked in a lake.” He explains. “Couldn't com in.” this ears him a boisterous laugh from Wrecker. 

“Accident prone as always.” He chuckles, before turning away to, presumably tell his comrades he's found Crosshair. You on the other hand, had backed up into the tree bark whilst watching this interaction. Crosshair is watching you watch Wrecker, and he wishes he could pick you up again, just to feel your heartbeat go from crazy to calm as you relaxed in his arms. It would be so much easier than talking or trying to talk,  to just scoop you up and  hide you from the world.  

“Tech and Hunter are only a few clicks out.” Wrecker says to Crosshair, subtle nudging him as if to say, ‘stop staring bro, you’ll spook her.’  Before moving over to you, and bringing his hand out, watching as you recoil more into the branches. Wrecker takes the hint, and  takes his helmet off before trying to shake your hand again. This time you let him, offering a small ‘hello’ in return. 

“You must be Fairywren.” He says, and you confirm the guess with a nod. “Cool name, much cooler than Crosshair.” He smiles at you, and you immediately decide that his talent, even with all the muscle, is undying kindness and radiating happy energy. Crosshair scoffs at his brother. 

“I hate to disappoint but it's just a nickname.” You’re still smiling a little, your old self shining through for that brief moment. 

“Still” He assures you, “it’s way better than any of ours!” You decide to lose yourself in the moment of happiness. Firing back at him with a:

“Oh I don't know, Crosshair isn’t that bad.” Wrecker laughs again, and you see Crosshair pause as he lifts a toothpick to his mouth, a small smile in the shadow of his tall figure. 

“Wrecker” he draws out that voice, so different to any other clone. He gestures to the forest edge he’d been watching as the leaves and twigs break and moves as Tech and Hunter join the three of you. They exchange words, far enough away from you that you don't hear them. A few glances thrown your way. And Crosshair starts to look more and more unimpressed. Breaking from the group with a grumble, and heading over to you, opting to lean against the tree with you. 

“Tech’s the small one.” He whispers to you. “Sergeant Hunter has the ridiculous hair.” rolling the toothpick in his mouth, you look up at him. 

“Why are you telling me this?” you're not trying so rude, but you're genuinely curious.

“I’m telling you, because you’re going to be putting up with them for the foreseeable future.” He sounds a tad annoyed but you don’t push further.  

“You named after the tattoo?” You ask without thinking. Tracing it with your eyes, giving them something to do other than tear up in panic. 

“Got it after.” He responds, and from that you can gather he’s not very social, but what you need right now is a distracted mind, so you decide to test your luck. 

“Why Crosshair though? Like I get it's your name but like why?”  You want to curse at how stupid you sound, but, the adrenaline has totally warn off now and your brain feels like goo.  

“Sniper.” He says blankly, turning around so you see  the huge rifle strapped to his back. 

“Oh…” you say, finally connecting the dots. “Well i'm called Fairywren after-”

“The birds, I know.” Crosshair  interrupts, before moving away from you as the rest of the group breaks apart from what you're guessing was a debrief? Taking small steps towards them, taking in how different they all are. 

“Sergeant Hunter, at your service.” The one with longer hair says, shaking your hand. You take note of his face tattoo as well and wonder if he got his with Crosshair. 

“Wren, thanks for the save.” You introduce yourself, not pausing to think where you’d be without them.

“No problem,” Hunter says, his voice is deeper than Crosshairs but no less gruff. “Shall we get off this kriffing rock?” Turning around to his group, taking in their nods, before scaling the tree. 

The Havoc Marauder isn't exactly what you expected, but then again you don't know what you expected it to be like.  Maybe a bit more cluttered than it actually is but you like it nevertheless. 

“How many species are on this planet?” The clone named Tech asks you, he's the only one that hasn't introduced himself to you, but you're guessing it's only because his brain is working a million parsecs a second. 

“I'm not actually sure,” You say, feeling guilty as his face drops. “There's a number of overall species and all but the variations are so unique it's hard to classify them.” You quickly add, watching his eyes light up.

“So why the Fairywren then?” He asks after a lengthy (and largely one sided) conversation of evolution in rainforest species. You feel Crosshair's eyes on you, tuning back into the conversation off and on again as he took or lost interest. 

“My grandmother once told me that the Fairywrens kept guard on your heart.” You tell him, and you see Crosshair lean forward on his knees to hear better. “She said that every Fairywren watches over someone, they keep them safe. She said my Fairywren was the brightest one there ever was because of how much she loved me.” Tech stays silent taking in the story, and Crosshair seems to be frozen in place. You don't realize that he’s realizing how stunning you are and kicking himself for not seeing it sooner. Of course you're the Fairywren, bright blue and so beautiful it almost seems fake. 

“How do you know Krexx.” Hunter asks walking into the brig area where you had been sitting. And you freeze at the name, Crosshair glares at his sergeant for bringing him up, he hates the way your face falls at the mention of his name. 

“He took over when the separatists showed up, and he was put in charge of keeping everyone in line.” You snap.

“Hunter, maybe we should-” Crosshair starts but he gets interrupted. 

“How many Trandoshans were on your planet?” Hunter interrupts, and if you didn't think Crosshair could glare any harder than he was, you were very mistaken. 

“At least a hundred.” You tell him. “Less now.” 

“Why less now?” Tech jumps in, and his honest interest makes you smile a little. 

“I used to catalog plants when I was a kid, my dad kept journals, because he was a healer. So it was like a hobby of ours.” You explain, “Trandoshans don’t take too well to plant venom apparently.” 

“Genius” Tech breathes and you can't help but flush. 

“Any chance of a tail?” Hunter asks, and this time Crosshair interrupts. 

“No, checked the whole way back to the ship and then some.” His voice sounds taught, like he's about to snap. 

“Good, either way, I'll take the first watch, I don't want any missteps here. Get some rest.” He nods to you all, and even though it's nowhere near close to nighttime you don't argue. Wrecker passes by and ruffles your hair saying “g’night little bird.” Tech offers you a mock salute that makes you smile, before heading to where you assume the bunks are. 

“Extra bunk is down the hall. Door on the left.” Crosshair tells you standing up, and the air seems to shift, you feel lonely thinking about him leaving. So you follow him, hoping he’ll stay up just a little longer with you. He stops in front of what you guess is his door. And you thank every god  out there that it's across from the empty one. You see that there's no blankets in the empty bunk. 

“Need anything?” he asks, and he almost cringes by how rude it sounds. ‘Sure’ he thinks to himself. ‘Be rude to the sopping wet, traumatized girl in front of you, good one Cross.” You turn back to him. 

“No it's okay, i'll get blankets from Hunter or just snoop around until I find them.” You joke, Rubbing the back of your neck as the man in front of you sighs and rolls the toothpick in his mouth around. 

“Stay here.” He says, a little softer, disappearing into his room. In reality he wants nothing more to let you into his room, to drop that cold exterior he’s created. But he already knows he's no good for you. Crosshair slips out his door again with a blanket. 

“Wrecker will be passed out already, Hunter doesn't use blankets and Tech has what he calls the ‘mathematical epiphany of correct blanket weight, fluffiness and size’ to ensure a proper sleep. So the only extra one around is this.” He states, holding out a black fluffy blanket that looks so cozy you want to cry. You take it from him silently, subtly bury your face in it so you can tell if it feels the same way his shoulder does. It's softer but smells the same, and you can't wait to burrito yourself in it. Crosshair has turned away, going crazy as he sees you snuggle into something that's not him.    

“Crosshair,” you call as his door slides open again. “Thank you.” And before you can embarrass yourself you slide into the extra room. 

“You’re welcome.” He whispers even though he knows you won't hear it. 

You wake to the sound of a very angry sniper. And even though his default setting is angry, he seems more perturbed than usual. Muffled voices can be heard from outside the small bunk area that you’ve already made your personal space. Wet, destroyed clothes sit on the floor in the corner and you’re wrapped only in Crosshairs blanket, save for your undergarments. You swing your legs over and plant them on the cold metal floor.  As you reach the door, the  voices become clearer.

“Absolutely not.”  - That's Crosshair for sure, only he would be so blunt. 

“I wasn't asking for your permission Crosshair, only your opinion.” The other voice is more of a long sigh at this point. The exhaustion and caring sound to it tells you it’s Hunter. For clones they are all remarkably different you think to yourself. 

“Yeah and my opinion is ‘no’.” Crosshair snaps. 

“The seppies will come after her whether you like it or not.” He counters. 

“Which is why we can’t take her into bounty hunter territory!” You freeze as you realize they mean you. Panic settles in when you come to terms with the idea of being ditched on some degenerate planet with non resources whatsoever. You retreat back into the bunk, pulling the blanket closer to your frame. 

“Just get her up.” Hunter finishes and you hear him tread back down the halfway of the ship. Crosshair grumbles something about not being in charge of you before the door slides open. He’s shocked to see you sitting up and awake, and his eyes rest on the pile of clothes on the floor before meeting yours. His blanket looks far better on you than it has in all his years of owning it.

“Food’s up.” He says before turning to leave. Less time spent interacting with you the better. Means less time for him to stare at the one exposed shoulder that the blanket has fallen off of and less time to wonder if you’d ever spare someone like him a second glance. 

“Where are you dumping me?” He hears a small voice ask. And all the warmth leaves  his body. 

“We aren't…” He starts, not turning around. Because if he doesn’t turn around he can claim ignorance if you're crying or not. 

“I heard you and Hunter and i’m not stupid.” You interrupt him, voice void of any emotion. 

“Then you'd know i'm not going to let him do that.” He snaps, almost angry at you for thinking he’d leave you on your own. 

“I’m deadweight, aren't I?” It's a question you know the answer to but have to ask anyways. You want to scream at the republic, for using your intel and then throwing you away. Taking advantage of your selflessness and empathy, just like they take advantage of  the clones caring and giving nature at every opportunity. 

“You’re not deadweight.” Crosshair states, leaving no room for argument, “You just need  to be somewhere off the grid for a while.” He hears you stand, and slowly he turns his head, his blanket bunched awkwardly around your frame. His jaw clenches as his heart pulls at strings he swore weren't there. 

“Crosshair…” You start, but don’t continue, words escape you, the right ones don’t exist in that moment. Or at least you can't bring yourself to use the ones you want to. So instead, you opt to blankly stare at the metal floor. He will leave eventually, turn and head out the door. You’re not his problem, your brain explains this as the floor becomes more and more interesting.  Except he doesn't go. And the very tips of his fingers meet your chin, gently pulling your head to meet his glance.  

God his eyes are stunning, you think, before cursing your brain for being in the totally wrong place at the wrong time. But his eyes might be the prettiest you’ve ever seen. Light brown with hints of ashy tones. 

“I won't leave you on your own.” He tells you, but what you want to hear is that he will stay with you. You're already inexplicably attached to the sniper, it's unbearable. 

“Thank you.” You whisper to him breathless just from being this close to him. 

“Now come on, or Wrecker will have eaten everything before you even get out there.” Crosshair cocks his head towards the door, pulling away from you. 

The members of the hold greet you excitedly, Wrecker seems to have really taken to calling you little bird as well as patting your head affectionately. And you find yourself sat wedge in between him and Tech while they both talk your ear off. Hunter is smiling and eating in contentment of his little family and Crosshair is starring, you fit so nicely in this scene. Wrecker piling more and more food on your plate while you laugh at Techs retelling of one of their ridiculous missions. 

“Tell er’ about Nal Hutta!” Wrecker says with an evil smile.

“Don’t you dare.” Crosshair snaps at his vod, who's already laughing his blacks off. 

“It wasn't that bad Cross.” Hunter admits grabbing some empty dishes and patting his shoulder as he walks by. 

“Yes it was!” Wrecker says between wheezes. And you notice the faint flush in his cheeks. 

“Okay one of you needs to spill the details.” You demand looking from Tech to Wrecker. 

“Well, as you probably know Nal Hutta is run by the infamous Hut cartel…” Tech launches off, waving his hands about as he talks. (you've picked this up as one of his biggest habits.) 

“Tech…” Crosshair groans with his face in one of his hands before giving in and leaning back. Preparing for the worst. 

“I can't tell you all the details, classified and all, but the important part is that Cross was working recon and cover, like usual. So he's up this step mountain that's basically all dirt and sand. Looking for this Hut fellow right, and before we can warn him Wrecker throws this thermal detonator and the whole side of the mountain collapses.” Tech tells you excitedly. And your worried eyes look across the table. Crosshair had moved so he could lean back with his arms behind his head looking just a tad embarrassed. 

“He would've been fine, if he hadn't gone rolling right through the window of the house he was collecting intel on.” Wrecker was killing himself laughing by this point. 

“And then the… the” He tried to get out between gasps of air before waving it off and letting Tech continue. 

“And well, sorry Cross, there's no easy way to say this.” Tech laughed a little himself. “He rolled right in on a Hutt reproducing session.” Your eyes went as wide as they could, and a hand covered your gaping and giggling mouth. 

“Wait, so Crosshair burst in on two Hutts doing it?” You gasped, trying to stifle your growing laughter. 

“Gets worse.” The man in question grit out, looking at the mess of comrades before him. 

“How does that get worse?” you exclaimed, leaning into Wrecker with his contagious laughter. Tech turned to you, smiling wider than ever. 

“Hutts reproduce asexually.” He stated, “scientists don't know too much about it but from the condition we found this one in.” he pointed to a grumpy Crosshair. “It gets real messy.” You closed your mouth into a thin line, blinking as you tried not to laugh. 

“Oh…” giggle “no, Crosshair…” More giggles. “That must’ve been awful.” You tried to emphasize you really did, but the look on the snipers face had you laughing all over again. 

“He was covered head to toe in green Hutt goo!”  Wrecker boomed. 

“Well it’s nice to know yet another finds my torment hilarious.” Crosshair grumbled as he stood up to escape the laughing hyenas before him. 

“No!” you objected, “I promise I am not finding this the least bit funny.” You told him, trying to keep a straight face. Receiving a sarcastic ‘um hum’ reply. 

“I mean it, you could have been seriously injured.” You countered, thinking you had successfully hidden your smile beneath your hand. 

“I can see you smiling.” He said, raising an eyebrow at you.

“You could've drowned in Hutt goo…” You quietly said with another round of giggles. 

“Ahhh yes CT-7733 of Clone Force 99 killed in action on Nal hutta, death caused by drowning in Hutt goo.” Tech snickered from beside you. 

“He will be dearly missed, and as an apology the Hutt has named the child in his honour.”  You added taking note of Crosshairs millionth eye roll of that morning alone. 

“Okay that's enough of that now.” He said. “Wren, you want clothes or are you spending the rest of your life in my blanket?” He teases, watching you blush a tad. 

“I don't take life advice from a man covered in goo.” You shoot back with the biggest smirk on your face. 

“No clothes for you then.” he smiled as your protests began. 

“Okay, okay, calm down, don’t get your goo in a tuffle.” You say maneuvering yourself from with the blanket and over Wrecker who's still chuckling to himself.  

Down back in your makeshift room, Crosshair shows you where the extra clothes are kept, which means you’ll be swimming in extra sets of blacks all meant for clones that are bigger  than yourself. But you think your pants may survive given a good enough wash, so for now you roll the waistband and the legs until you look somewhat presentable. Greeting crosshair on the other side of the door.  

“See,”  He says, “told ya’ it would fit.” Before he turns from you and starts to walk back down the hall. 

“Wait Crosshair!” You call jogging over to him, a look of fau-concentration on your face as you reach up to where his short hair meets his right ear. Carefully running your fingers through it. He knows his heart has either stopped beating or hammering so fast he can’t feel it. 

“There, all good now.” you declare patting his cheek a few times. hoping he inquires as to why you just hand you hand in his hair. He opens and closes his mouth a few times before deciding on: 

“What was that for?” and if there was an inter-galactic clone flirting competition, Crosshair just lost. You grin up at him, pure evil  in your eyes. 

“Oh no reason,”You say walking past. “Just a little leftover Hutt goo.” 

Tech finds your fascination with hyperspace fascinating. You seem to spend hours sitting by whichever window you have chosen for that moment, watching the universe whizz by. Sometimes he sits with you, and you both talk about your theories for explaining the galaxy. He learns that your parents never left your home world once you were born and nicknamed you Yona after the rain that poured down so often. He mentions it offhand to Crosshair and catches him whispering it to himself later that day. Tech himself sticks to calling you Fairywren, while Wrecker has committed to little bird, Hunter goes with Fairywren like Tech but Crosshair has decided on not using your name or any of the many nicknames the bad batch have for you. 

In fact, he’s starting avoiding you all together. 

You flit around the ship like a plague according to him, Hunter and Tech can’t figure out why the sniper has such a disdain for everything you do but it’s getting out of hand.

“When do we drop out of hyperspace?” He asks one day while you’re perched in the cockpit staring out the window, away from the current conversation. 

“Soon.” Hunter states his focus on his holopad, receiving instructions from Cody about laying low. 

“How soon?” Crosshair presses, keeping an eye on the door that separates you from hearing him. 

“Doesn’t matter.” Hunter says, getting slightly annoyed with his brother, not to be dramatic but you’re literally a joy to have around. All the batchers love you to bits and Hunter is frustrated that Crosshair is being a spoilsport. 

“It matters to me.” 

“Yeah we get it. You can't stand Fairywren, because she’s the problem and you can't wait to get rid of her.” Hunter snaps, putting his holopad down.  “Just days ago you were all over  her, what happened to ‘we aren't leaving her’?” He’s staring at Crosshair, enhanced sense burning into his soul.   

“Just a little leftover Hutt goo.”  You’d said to him, not that he’d heard, his face was on fire, burned from where you had touched it. And he is surprised he didn't flinch away from your touch, had he become that accustomed to you already? Was Crosshair so entranced by you in  such a short amount of time that he was already missing your touch? No. He doesn't  know you. You don't know him. He’s memorized every part of your face, but you don’t matter to him. His heart seems to beat for every smile you give him. But you have no effect on the sniper. Every shot he takes is one to protect you from anymore trauma. But he doesn't give a damn about your feelings. Love at first sight doesn't exist, soulmates are fake. And even if they did Crosshair doesn't want it. 

Kamino broke him, being defected, trained and thrown away for your one purpose does that to person. He tells himself to hate you for putting him back together.

“Nothing changed.  But we aint a charity.” He tells his sergeant, who absolutely knows he is lying. But because he doesn't know why he’s lying, Hunter lets the conversation drop, but mostly because he can hear you get up from the co-pilot's seat and head towards the door. 

“Wrecker says we’re dropping out of hyperspace soon.” You report, popping your head out of the door. “Says it'll look cool.” You add with a blush. Hunter chuckles a tad and says something about going to let Tech know. Leaving you to stare at Crosshair. 

“Ram'ser” you say all of a sudden, slow and precise, testing out the word and being very careful of  your pronunciation. 

“What?” Crosshair spits, more surprised than malicious. Since when did you speak mando’a?

“Tech likes to talk to me in phrases of mando’a  and have me guess what they mean.” you explain slowly. “He uses that word when he talks about you.” 

“Yeah? Good for him.” Crosshair is glaring at his reflection in the table. He hates this, he wants to hate you. He can’t stand the way the words come out of his mouth, but his head reminds him that you will be safest far away from the war. And that means he can't catch feelings and any that have slipped through must be thrown away. He hears the door slip closed as you retreat to watch the stars again. Tech and Hunter follow moments later, Hunter looking down at his vod with a sigh. Stupid enhanced hearing. He heard every word. 

You land on a desert planet you already can't remember the name of, but apparently it’s a neutral system and a good place to lay low. The sand dunes make you frown because they go as far as the eye can see, and Tech makes you take a spare pair of goggles and a makeshift hooded cape that was fashioned out of a lightweight tarp from the hold. That combined with your clean (albeit mud stained) pants and an oversized shirt you fit right in with the mess of inhabitants on the planet. 

“You’ll get itchy.” Hunter tells you when he sees that you’ve sat yourself in the sand and are now in the process of burying your legs in the strange stuff. 

“Sorry, I’ve just never really seen this stuff.” you apologize but Hunter waves it off with a smile. 

“It’s okay, just a heads up. Stuff gets everywhere.” You reluctantly pull yourself out of the sand, joining everyone by the edge of the sand dune, looking over at the nearby city in the distance. 

“So what haven't you guys seen?” You ask as you struggle to walk down the intense slope. 

“We don’t see a lot of water usually.” Tech says, “but only because not many species can survive underwater.” 

“If you could go anywhere, where would you go?” The bad batch is used to your barrage of questions. It’s one of the things they like most about having you around, from favourite colours to wild would you rather questions, your brain is always humming with things to discover. 

“Somewhere small and quiet.” Hunter says quickly, the light, heat and everything else already giving him a headache. 

“Coruscant.” Tech answers, the complete opposite of his brother. “Libraries and the Jedi temple.” He explains further. 

“Kamino.” Wrecker says, surprising you. You had assumed they all hated it there. “Home is home.” He explains with a smile. Crosshair doesn't say anything, but he can feel the eyes on him. 

“What?” He says to the four faces looking at him. 

“Cross would go to Hoth, because it’s cold.” Wrecker sasses him with a slight push. 

“Shut up Wrecker.” he snaps, in a very bad mood today. 

“Or anywhere his cyare is.” Wrecker adds without thinking. Making Hunter, you and Tech very confused. That's a word you haven't heard from Tech before and both him and hunter are trying to figure out who Wrecker is talking about while Crosshair looks like he’s actually going to explode. 

“What did you just say?” He says each word is its own sentence. 

“Cross has a cyare?” Tech is now thinking out loud (another habit of his) “no way Cross has a cyare we would know if he did. I mean we are with him all the time so it’s not like we wouldn’t know them or have met them…” His rambling fades into the background when Wrecker speaks up again. 

“Wait Tech, Sarge? You two seriously didn't notice?” He asks, shocked that his clever brothers hadn't picked it up. 

“Wrecker, shut your trap.” Crosshair orders, and a very tense silence falls over the group, and you’re only a third of the way to the city. You decide to ask Tech what the word means later.  And the now very awkward walk continues, that is until a speeding starts  to approach you from the town. 

“Bad batch! Defensive positions!” Hunter calls to them, and within seconds they have their helmets on. except for Cross whose helmet is still in the bottom of that lake, but has a new one waiting for him at base. But either way they’re all ready for combat in record time, leaving you to stand awkwardly in the middle of them hand by where you keep the small knife that's always by your side. 

“Civi’s!” Tech calls, having analyzed the people within the speeder, it’s a Twi’lek woman with a young child. She does, however, raise a blaster before addressing  the group.

“Saw the ship land. Thought someone or something might need help.” She says, eying the group suspisously. “Clones eh?” She adds. “Can't be here. Neutral system.”  She lowers the blaster. 

“We just need a few days.” Hunter says, taking his helmet off. 

“Perhaps you didn't hear me.” She’s more aggressive now. “You can’t be here. One day or a hundred, we don't care. Get gone.” You step forward. 

“Hunter we should go.” You whisper, looking at the mother and her young one. 

“Kriff,” The twi’lek sighs when she sees you. “Huxx has already got a bounty on her.” She looks at you with pity. 

“Thought you said this was a neutral planet.” Crosshair snaps. 

“Bounty is a bounty, no matter who’s side it’s for.” She says shaking her head. She pauses thinking for a minute. “All i can offer you is the fact that any planets around here  will  have been given the same information.” 

“What if I had credits?” You ask, it’s dangerous. But you know if one person saw you and more must know by now.  

“You’d need a lot of credits and a really stupid person to let you camp out here. Especially with clones” she says, beginning to bargain. 

“What about credits, a nice person, and no clones?” You counter taking a pouch out of your pants pockets. 

“That might work. For a couple days that is.” She agrees. 

“Absolutely not.” Hunter interrupts. “We aren't leaving you.” ignoring someone with a sniper rifle mumbling ‘hypocrite’ under his breath. 

“The name’s Leeya” she tells you, ignoring Hunter. 

“Yona.” You reply, moving to hop in the speeder, but stopped by Hunter's hand. 

“This isn't happening.” He says firmly. 

“Get in the speeder and tell your very angry friends to find something to wear other than armour.” Leeya smiles softly at you.

“We’ll be back soon.” Tech speaks up, very nervous, just as the rest of his batch. 

“I know,” You tease, “who else is gunna listen to you if i’m not around?” He laughs a little, and you hug him goodbye, before wrapping your arms around Hunter and Wrecker in turn. Crosshair doesn't move. 

“See ya around.” He says, turning away, and there’s a crack forming in your heart. You know he’s been different recently, you know he’s just putting up with you. But you thought there was something there. The present evidence seems to prove you wrong. Wrecker’s looking between you and Crosshair in disbelief. He sees you swallow tears and he snaps. 

“Wrecker!” Crosshair all but screams as he’s lifted into the air by his brother. Of course he heard him stomp up behind him but he definitely wasn't expecting to be snatched from where he stood. 

“She’s your kriffing cyare!” He booms, before unceremoniously shoving Crosshair down into the sand in front of you. It would be funny if you weren't so shocked by Wreckers actions. Crosshair pulls himself up and whips around, arm cocked ready to throw a punch. The hardest glare you’ve ever seen on his face. But it falls when you gently take hold of his arm. 

He’s taken back to the night he kissed you, and you begged him to keep the nightmares at bay.  He blinks and he’s taken back to the morning he woke with you in his arms. All at once  he remembers and forgets why he was pushing you away.

“Crosshair…” You start, but he pulls you into a crushingly tight hug before you finish. Nose to your hair, and your hands around his neck. Like they were made to be there. 

“I-I” he starts what would be an apology that he knows won't be enough. 

“It’s okay,” you interrupt. “Just be back soon.” and in a haze he watches you pull away from him and get into the speeder. 

“But I promised…” He whispers to himself. “I promised not to leave you…” you’re becoming a speck on the horizon, and he should be happy, he doesn't have to torture himself by refusing to love you anymore. 

Except part of him knows, as he feels his heart get torn from his chest, the real torture has just begun. 

You see him in your dreams. His corpse, destroyed in front of you. And when you wake with a start, on the dusty planet, in another woman's home, he isn't there to comfort you. Leeya is usually up and so you find her in the kitchen pottering around. You spend those nights cradling her infant child, trying to stop his incessant crying. And you learn that the day she met you she was looking for her husband. Who apparently has been missing for quite some time.

They’ve been gone seven rotations and the nightmares and shakes are getting worse, wrecker isn't here to make you laugh, tech isn't here to drown your thoughts out with ones of his own. Hunter Isn't here to take notice of the smallest changes in your well being. And Crosshair, well, Crosshair isn't here either. But you miss the eternity of him. 

Mostly you miss his arms, strong enough to hold you tight but soft enough to cradle the tears away. Wrapping around you away from the universe. An addicting drug at its finest and you’ve only had one hit. 

It was late, late enough that you thought no one was awake. Having been travelling through hyperspace with the Batch for 12 regular rotations of 24 hours, you’ve taken to having panic attacks alone in your room, or pacing around the ship when everyone is asleep, pushing away the memories of a family you once had. 

“You should be asleep.” Comes the long drawl from the sniper, toothpick in  his mouth, wearing only his blacks. You jump back, scared of the sudden noise.  

“I’m sorry.” The apology is immediate. 

“Don’t be.” He states, looking at you, wrapped up in his blanket like usual, he wonders if it smells like you.

“You’re shaking.” He notes with concern, standing up from his  spot and crossing over to you. 

“I just do that sometimes.” You admit, trying your hardest not to bring attention  to the problem. 

“Before we met?” You know what he’s insinuating, did you have a habit of shaking before your parents died. 

“Yes.” A lie floods so easily from your lips. 

“Promise?” He doesn't believe you, he’s heard stories about the famous fairywren from regs on corosaunt. You were basically famous for heroics and intel, and he’s pretty sure someone like that doesn't shake. You don’t answer him, staring at a spot on the wall behind his shoulder in the hopes you can fake eye contact. You hear him sigh, before his arms encase you. 

Once they do, you begin to shake in earnest. From head to toe as if now your mind knows it’s safe, it's letting out all the pent up anxiety. Every breath is interrupted halfway by the next, and tears make trails down your face and into his clothing.

“I’m sorry.” You tell him again, and in response he just holds you tighter. His arms pull you as close as physically possible, and for a moment you let go of everything that's holding you up. Everything you’ve been trying to hide from those you travel with surface with one terrible sob.

“Someone as heavenly as you shouldn't cry.” Crosshair says, placing the gentlest of kisses to your hairline.  

“It's my fault they're dead.” You gasp between tears. 

“No, Yona, it’s not. You didn't start this war, you didn't ask for your home planet to be invaded. And you didn’t give the order.” 

“But I-” You start

“But nothing.” He barges in rather softly. “It’s not, and will never be your fault.” 

“He’s going to kill me.” you whisper into the darkness of the havoc marauder. “He would have the day if the neighbours had not heard the screaming. Before he left he promised me, no matter where I hid, he’d find me.” 

“I won't let him lay a finger on you.” Crosshair professes to you and himself.  His arms that had slacked pull you closer yet again. 

“You don’t owe me anything, missions done Cross. I’m just baggage.” You sniffle, lip beginning to tremble. 

“Not to me.” He says firmly. You pull back from him just enough to look into his eyes. And with a look both of you ask ‘why me’ and answer the other in one breath. Your quivering hands make their way to the edges of his face. And very, very slowly they start  pulling his lips to yours. You stop just before they meet. Waiting for him to pull away, or to ask you to stop, but nothing of the sort happens. His mouth connects to yours as softly as possible and just like that the two of you are kissing. 

It’s soft, slow, nurturing and full of feelings neither of you can describe. You never want to leave this embrace and from the way Crosshair is humming against you, he agrees with that statement. 

The air runs out eventually, and breathless, the two of you pull away. It doesn't stop him from chasing your lips and placing haphazard final pecks to your slightly agape mouth. 

“If i asked you to hold me for the rest of the night, would you?” It's A risky question but you ask it anyway. 

“You think i’d say no to someone as stunning as you?”

He wakes to you curled into his frame, arms locked around his stomach where the blacks have ridden up, and he can't tell where his legs start and where yours end because they’re so intertwined. Crosshair looks down at your face, and thinks that he wasn't made to fight in a war. He was made to love you. 

And the second that thought crosses his mind, he’s taken back to Kamino where the creepy longnecks tell a younger version over and over again, that he isn't a real person. That he will never have a real life. He begins and ends with this war, and he knows that this war has taken enough from you. And it cant take him from you if he doesn't give himself  away. 

So he presses one last kiss to your forehead, a tear falling into your hair. He lets himself think about your future, an older happier you, living a free life. It’s just that, in that image, Crosshair isn't there. 

“How did you know?” Tech asks Wrecker the second they make it back to the Havoc Marauder and crosshair is out of earshot. He’s been replaying the events back and it makes so much sense, but how was it that both him and Hunter had not clued in?

“Mostly the way he looked at her.” Wrecker says quietly, afraid of his brother overhearing this conversation. “He wasn’t very subtle.” He adds thoughtfully. Tech scrunches his eyebrows together and thinks about all the small smiles the sniper gave you, and yes this was normal behaviour for him around the other batchers, but thinking about it now, crosshair should've been much more cold to an outsider. Perhaps you just blended in so well into their little family he never stopped to notice.  

“There's a republic planet not too far from here, we restock there.” Hunter calls to the cockpit, usually maybe he’d poke his head in and check on Tech and Wrecker, but right now, he’s got someone else to check on. 

Crosshair is in his room, having collected his blanket from your bunk he sits with it by his bed while wondering how long it’ll smell like you. He’d be angry if he didn’t feel so empty. And because he feels so empty, there's not much he can do but tinker mindlessly with his rifle. 

“Cross?” it's phrased like a question but Hunter isn't exactly asking for permission into Crosshairs room. He strides  right through the door like he owns the place, (which he kind of does.) 

“Sarge!” Crosshair jumps to attention. It’s funny how when your brain does into overdrive it reverts to its base settings and you fall into old habits, and as a clone, habits are kamino training.

“At ease.” Hunter states with a raised eyebrow, when was the last time he asked his crew to stand to attention? He shakes it off. “Cross we gotta talk.” 

“We aren't together, you can’t court marshall me.” He snaps, Crosshair has already had this conversation in his head, and he knows that in clone force 99 is where he needs to be. So he’s got every rebuttal and reason stacked in his mind ready to go. 

“That wasn’t what I was asking…” Hunter states, and he knows he has to be careful, crosshair is a live wire at the best of times and this, well this is something else entirely. 

“What are you asking me then?” Crosshair stands up, coming toe to toe with Hunter, and you don’t need enhanced sense to know cross feels threatened. So Hunter takes a step back, a sign of non-agression. 

“I am asking why you would push something like that away.” Hunter says, choosing his words carefully. Not ‘why push her away’ because he knows the answer to that. It’s not allowed, I have to keep her safe, she doesn't feel the same, ect, ect. But in reality Hunter wants to know why he would push away the unspoken feelings they both have for the other. Why would Crosshair throw away something every clone dreamed about? Crosshair doesn't respond at first, but when he does, he explains everything to simply. 

“You can’t heal trauma on a battlefield.” and for the first time in  his life Hunter sees one of his men shed a tear. It’s gone the second it appears, lost to a face worn down by violence. Gone so quickly Hunter isn't even sure if it’s really there.

“But Crosshair.” He tells him gently “that isn’t your call. It’s hers.” he receives a small nod in return. And Hunter stands in front of him awkwardly, not sure what he is supposed to do next. 

“Well.” he clears his throat. “I’ll leave you to it then, because you best start working on your apology.” Crosshair smiles softly at that, and nods with more confidence this time. 

“You know sarge, if i didn't know better i’d say you’ve gone soft.”  The classic crosshair sarcasm is lacking a tad, but it’s progress. 

“Yeah, that Fairywren’s a bad influence.” He says over his shoulder as he leaves the snipers room. 

Time has no meaning while they're gone. You decide with an over dramatic sigh while you dig up and plant this strange dessert food. Except it’s not really food, it’s just kind of a thick stemmed thing that oozes out goo that the locals use for a variety of things, including a snack.  But you like plants, and you’re more than happy to be left on your own for a bit. Leeya is in the center of town with her son, selling and buying goods for the week. 

“Yona!” You hear her shouting from the house, frantic, and worried. “Yona!” she’s sprinting toward you fast as she can with the baby in her arms. You run to meet her halfway, tripping as you scramble to get up. 

“What, what is it?” You ask as she collides into you, careful not to squish the infant. 

“He’s coming, he’s coming here. Yona he’s coming here.” Leeya pants, terrified. Through the time of your stay you learn her life has also been altered by the trandoshan that hunts you, the kind twi’lek confessed to you one night when you asked why she agreed to help you. And being kind, you didn't press. Her life was her life, and neither of you seemed keen on talking about either of your lives.

“Leeya” You say trying to keep a level head. “Breathe I need you to breathe.”  she takes shallow breaths but nods to your suggestion. 

“They were talking about it at the market, said someone overheard a transmission.” You look up at the sky for a ship, praying to see one you recognize. But  it’s clear skies today and there's nothing in sight. So you can only wrap your arm around Leeya, coo to her son, head inside and pretend not to be scared. 

Krexx lands two rotations later, and your occasional shaking becomes constant. Sleep isn’t an option because you always have to be alert. You assume he doesnt know you’re here or he  would’ve found you already, but that doesn't ease your nerves. So it’s no surprise to anyone in the household, that when Leeya’s son starts to cry in the  middle of th night, you're by  his side in an instant. 

“Hey little slug, what's got your lekku in a twist?” You scoop him up into your arms and he manages to blow a tear induced spit bubble as a reply. 

“See and then you wonder why I call you slug, you slimy thing.” You smile down at him, bouncing slightly, moving your weight from leg to leg trying to stop the crying before his mum wakes. 

But don’t worry, it’s okay to be slimy.” You hope your voice will calm him, his wailing has stopped but you can tell from the sniffles one wrong move and you'll be back to square one. 

“I know someone who’s got a great story about slime, maybe one day he can tell you about it. Except maybe we’d have to get Tech to tell you, He’s so smart, and because Wrecker, well he’s a lot but you’ll love him either way, and Hunter’s kind rough around the edges but all squishy in the middle…” You trail off, and blink back tears that are a physical manifestation of stress. 

“And Crosshair, he’d take such good care of you, he’s kind of intimidating, got this whole pretended beskar exterior, but it’s all an act. He’d get you the softest blankets and he checks on everyone to make sure they eat and sleep and whatnot. I bet you’d really like him little slug.” you let some tears fall and giggle a little. 

“See now you’ve got us both crying now what am I supposed to do?” you say, except when you look down he’s fallen back asleep. So you place him back down, carefully wrapped in blankets. 

“You know, you don't have to help with him.” Leeya says from the door, with a smile that tells you she’s not being totally serious.

“Just earning my keep.” You joke and she sighs and follows you out of the baby’s room to make some kind of beverage. Pulling cups down and heating water to mix with a scoop of the extract from the plants you gathered today. 

“You haven't been sleeping.” She notes as she hands you a cup. You hum in response, not really knowing what to say. So the two of you sit in comfortable silence, until one of the buttons by her door starts to blink. It’s not the lock mechanism, because it's not red or green. 

“What's the blue light?” You ask, taking a sip of the drink that you decide maybe isn't too horrible. 

“Scanners picked something up, out across the dunes.” She mumbles standing and making her way over to the window to peer out of it. You follow her to squint in the darkness. 

“Leeya…” You whisper, “what’s out there?” 

“Something big if the scanners can get it from that far out.” she turns from the window, rushing to place the cup down and back to the babies room. 

“A ship?” You ask chasing after her, as she scoops up her son. 

“Could be, but if it is, that doesn't make us any safer.” She opens her cupboard and hands you her long range rifle. 

“I know you think it’s them, but I’m telling you, whatever it is, it probably isn't friendly.” she tells you, a sad look on her face.   

“I know.”  You tell her, “stay here with baby slug. I’ll check it out.” You tell her heading for the door. 

“How many times have I told you, his name is Galer.” She sighs, “be safe.” She adds as the durasteel door creaks and slides open. You look back with a smile before disappearing out the door. 

The night on this planet is as annoying as the day, the wind picks up so much that even if you could see through the pitch black, the sand in your eyes prevents you from making anything desirable out. But you know your way to the dunes where you landed, having trekked there almost everyday hoping the Batch had returned for you. 

In the distance there’s a hulking shadow, most certainly a large transport of some kid, but if it's a ship (and not some terrifying Jawa contraption) is it the Havoc Marauder? The sand is loose under your feet, and every step is a struggle to unburry the step you took before it. Your heart feels like it’s screaming for Crosshair, while your brain sush’s it with thoughts of untold peril. 

In the darkness you see movement appear over a sand dune, and on instinct you throw yourself into the grainy stuff for cover, shouldering the rifle and looking through the scope. There’s just the crickets and your breathing as you make out one figure, then another, and another until the fourth and final body comes into view. You adjust the scope with a flutter of frantic fingers. One smaller than the rest? Check? Hulking gentle giant? Yeppers. You make out a pack on the back of the one that seems to be leading the group and….

And then you see the shadow of a rifle. 

You scramble for purchase in the soft sand, like some kind of manic beetle running for cover. Your brain has tunnel vision brought from the gap in your heart. 

“Crosshair!” You scream into the darkness, as you start sprinting towards the group, it was a stupid idea, blowing your cover, even stupider to leave your rifle behind. But you don’t care. 

The entire group whips around at the noise, and you hear them calling out into the night.

“Wren!” it’s his voice, and you  know it’s him that's also running towards you. You’ve counted so many kriffing rotations since you last saw, spoke to or heard from him. 

Crosshair can't think straight, there’s so much he needs to apologize for, so much he needs to tell you and maker, if he can’t get you into his arms soon he might implode. 

But then, he doesn't have enhanced senses for nothing, he sees it out of the corner of his eye, his brain checking the area for snipers without him even being conscious it’s doing so until it actually finds one. 

And so he goes barrelling into you at full speed, hunching down and tackling the both of you into the ground, as the rest of the batch scrambles for cover and to return fire. You feel like you’re being dragged into the sand and you can’t breath, hearing, but not seeing blaster shots. 

“Crosshair,” You reach for him as he pushes you further into the ground trying to shield your body.   

“Stay down!” He shouts, already looking through the scope of his rifle. You try to get to him again, but he sees you move and he abandons the shot in favour of pushing you into the sand again. 

“Stay. Down.” he hisses into your ear. And he registers your mumbles, having forgotten, if anyone knew Krexx and his tactics. It was you. 

“They knew. They knew Crosshair! They were waiting for you to come back!” your hands finally find purchase on a part of him and the latch on like magnetic durasteel. “None of you have armour, they knew.” You press, searching his eyes praying he understands. One look up and he sees a group of trandoshans marching to where his brothers are currently defending. He moves for his rifle and starts making shots as you spot your gun, laying useless in the sand a few meters away. Crawling on your tummy over to it, your hand wraps around the butt of the gun as it’s grabbed by a single trandoshan, who must have been scouting on the other side of the city. 

The blaster rifle is ripped from you as your shoulder takes a powerful kick that winds you as your back hits the ground. He pulls a smaller hand held blaster on you, but you’re quick enough to send a fistful of sand into his face, followed by a flailing kick to his knee cap. As he drops, a gun fires  from behind you, and the creature drops dead. You grab your gun from his grasp and twist to see Crosshairs rifle still smoking, as another reptile runs at him, you pull the trigger on your rifle, sending him to the ground. Crosshair looks over his shoulder, then back to you.  

“Never told me you were that good a shot.” he comments as you scurry back over to him. 

“You didn’t ask.” you grit out, laying down more cover fire. 

“Hot.”  He smirks, and you gape at him, yes he looks fantastic in civilian clothes, in fact, given different situations you might take the time to stare at him.

“Really? That. now?” you shout over the desert battle. “You shut yourself off from me, ditch me for weeks on this hell hole, and now you want to flirt in the middle of this sweet hell!” you gesture wildly to the entire situation. 

“I have an apology ready, but I figured it should wait until we aren't getting shot at!” He rolls over onto your body as a human shield as the trandoshan sniper, rains all hell down on the two of you. Crosshair looks up just enough so that he can see your eyes, and he knows if he’s about to die he needs to kiss you one more time. 

So he does. It’s messy and uncoordinated, less soft than the first one you two had shared. It’s frantic, worried, desperately trying to compensate for kisses he now worries you’ll never get the chance to share. 

You respond in kind, pressing open mouth kisses into him as the only way to try and communicate that you know. You know he’s sorry, you know he missed you, you know he’s going to promise to never leave you again. You know him. Maybe better than he was originally okay with, but right now he just doesn't care. 

“The blasts.” You say thorough kisses, causing him to pause and check his surroundings. 

“They stopped…” he supplies, leaning up a tad more onto his forearms, still keeping you encased beneath him. 

“No help from the two of you.” Says Hunter as him, Tech and Wrecker approach the tiny hill you had both been hiding behind. Crosshair stands up brushing himself off before pulling you up and into his arms, glaring at his vod while he places a (slightly angry)  kiss to the top of your head. 

“Can I say hi to everyone else?” The question sounds squished as you mumble it out from your spot against his chest. 

“Fine.” Crosshair relents, letting you go allowing his brothers to crowd you and basically coo over how much they missed you. “So much for my cyare.” he grumbles to himself, only slightly pouting at the attention that isn't his anymore. 

And from within a twi’leks house, just off the edge of the sand dunes, one last trandoshan watches. And waits. 

Crosshair didn't let you get more than a few steps away from him the entire way back to Leeya’s house. It was almost as if the more you walked the more nervous he got that you would disappear in front of his eyes. His hand slipped it’s way into yours, gently dragging you so that Crosshair could feel the warmth of you. 

“Clingy.” You state, leaning into him as you walked through the sand. He hums in response, not bothering to try and deny it. His brothers marvel at how much he’s changed since you came into their lives. 

“It’s very impressive.” Tech admits, “the Fairywren seems to be able to trigger evolutionary change in humans. Who knew such a small creature could cause such a shift in personality?” Crosshair makes a gesture at Tech that you don’t see but assume it was rude either way. 

“Shove off Tech.” He says over his shoulder. You all but coo up at Crosshair, smiling towards him when he meets your gaze. 

“So you’re done pushing me away now?” You ask, teasing a little, but also hesitant, worried that he’ll grow cold again. 

“Yeah, someone talked some sense into me.” He tells you, briefly glancing over to Hunter, who only smiles and gives him a mock salute. 

“Hmm? And which of your vod do I have to thank for that?” You look at the rest of the batch behind you. 

“I guess you’ll never know.” Crosshair says, wrapping his arm around you again, stealing you away from the others. Maker, he really is clingy when he wants to be. 

Peaking your  head around the corner of one of the edge buildings you check for any other trandoshans. There's nothing. The wind whistles through the city as it sleeps, and you hope by the time morning comes, Drexx hasn't found the mess the five of you left his troop in. 

It’s the door to Leeya’s house that makes you stop, Cross feels you go rigid in his arms, and even he doesn't notice the cause at first. 

“The keypad.” You shakily whisper, it looks as if it's been removed and hastily replaced. Something only someone who’s been watching their back for as long as you have would notice. Without pausing to think you break away from Crosshair and dash inside. You hear him call your  name at the same time a blaster clicks beside your head. 

“It’s nice to see you again.”  Drexx hisses from beside you, Leeya is sitting on the floor in her living room, Galer crying in her arms. 

“He’s just a kid,” You immediately start begging. You’ve been here before, the same blaster, a much wetter planet and two adults shaking in front of you instead of one. Body trembling in its entirety. 

“Please.” you try again, “he’s just a baby.” Tears fall of their own accord. Like your body doesn't know what else to do other than tremble from head to toe and poor water from your eyes. 

“Should’ve kept away from them then.” Drexx tells you as he places himself on a chair in the room, twirling his blaster happily. Just as Clone Force 99 barges their way in. 

“Oh, looks like your friends have finally caught up.” He snarls. Pointing his gun at you again. “Seems to me they are short of some armour though. I wonder how resilient clones are when they’re not protected by fancy plastoid.” A choked sob leaves your body, what have you done? How could this be happening, again? 

“Shh, shh, it’s okay, come here little Fairywren.” Krexx hushes you and you know you have no choice to listen to him. Crossing the room on shaking legs, hearing a struggle behind you as Hunter tries to hold Crosshair back.

“You.” Krexx says moving his blaster to point at Cross. “You, I recognize. Last we met,  you were passed out in binders. Decided to cuff yourself to some new deadweight I see.” He looks at you and then back to Crosshair. Having a superb time with the power he’s found himself in possession of. 

“Krexx…” you’ve got no option but to try and reason with him again, still focused on the family behind you. “Just let these two go. You know you don’t need them anymore. And you know you can’t kill civilians in a neutral system.” His features curl in anger as he turns to you. 

“Who would report me? You? The clones?” He’s just playing with his food at this point. Enjoying the terror he’s bringing, and thriving off of your trauma. He places his blaster down on the table and places his feet atop it. 

“How about we make a deal Fairywren?” He offers, relaxing into the chair. 

“What kind of deal?” You ask timidly. Brain working overtime to try and figure out how to get out of your situation.  

“Someone gets to walk away from this alive, I don’t care who. Could be them, could be mama and baby over there. Could be you.” Your eyes lock with Crosshair, you both know what's about to happen.

“Your call. Who gets to live? And more importantly who else gets to die because the famous fairywren couldn't keep her trap shut?” 

Everything seems to be put on pause for a second as your brain spirals out of control. Almost like your mind swims away from your physical body, and watches what happens next. 

“Me.” You say firmly. “It was my mistake, I am the snitch. I get to die.”Your voice is confident. So much so that you think Krexx might be impressed. 

“Then which of them gets to die?” He asks you, willing, wanting you to continue. 

“Neither, you get me, that’s it. That's the deal.” You do your best to remain as confident as possible but it’s slipping away quickly. 

“And why would I agree to that?” Krexx questions, wondering what plan you've concocted. 

“Because killing them wasn't a part of your orders. You kill an entire force of Troopers and the republic will demand your head on a pike. Kill civilians of a neutral planet and the republic gains yet another supporter. You have orders. So did I, I followed them, it got me here. You follow yours and this stops today.” You’re hoping the dramatic rhetoric is enough. It seems to be enough to make Krexx pause and think for a moment. 

“You say that like if i shoot you in here, your band of freaks won't tear my head off.” Krexx comments after a long period  of time. And you let out the breath you’d been holding. 

“Outside then.” You fire back. 

“Wren.” Crosshair says, and you can’t even meet his eyes. The crack in his voice is enough. 

“Outside then.” Krexx agrees. Motintiong for you to walk onwards the door as he picks up his blaser. “One more thing.” he adds, pausing as the two of you are almost to the door. 

You scream as the bolt hits Crosshair in the left leg. All plans forgotten as you turn towards him. He hits the ground on his good knee as Tech and Hunter crowd him desperate to save what's left of the burning flesh. Wrecker turns on Krexx who promptly grasps your bicep and points the gun to your head. 

“Just needed a little insurance that we wouldn't be followed. And he seemed to be a trouble maker.” He gives a nod to the scene in front of him, like an artist finally content with their work he pulls you from the house. 

Crosshair feels like his leg is being swallowed by Magma, it’s pain that burns bright all up his body. Tech does his best to get the ruined fabric away from the wound, but other than wrap it in non-ruined shirt material and put pressure on it there's not much that can be done. 

“Roof.” Crosshair gasps out, trying to move for his sniper rifle. 

“Crosshair, you put pressure on a wound like that and you might not be keeping that leg.” Tech tells him, trying to find anything resembling bacta. He feels a hand on his shoulder, the Twi’lek, Leeya he thinks her name is, presses a stim shot into his hand. 

“Stairs lead all the way up, on the right.” She deadpans, turning away from the group clutching onto her child. With a grunt, Crosshair stabs the stim shot into his leg, tying the material as tight as he can before the pain becomes overwhelming.  His hand goes for the gun again, and Hunter’s beats him to it. He opens his mouth to argue. 

“All due respect sarge,” Wrecker interrupts, taking the rifle from Hunter, and hoisting Crosshair to his feet. Wrecker goes to add something, but he doesn't, opting for a curt nod to his sergeant before dragging his half conscious brother towards the stairs. 

Krexx leads you to the open sand, the morning sun now on the rise, beginning to warm the land. 

“At least it’s a nice view.” You breathe as he pushes you to your knees, moving the blaster into position. Your mind goes blank, unsure of where to go from here. 

Your body however, knows exactly what to do. And with one last surge of adrenaline it twists in the sand and you use both hands to get a grasp on Krexx’s wrist, standing and using your momentum to pull him over you and into the sand. From there it’s a scurry as you search for the weapon. Only to be yanked by your hair as the trandoshan regains his footing.  A jab with your elbow, loosens his grip enough so that your second jab crashes into his teeth. You make the mistake of kicking him, with such force that you lose your balance in the sand. This gives him time to wrap hands around your windpipe and begin to crush it. You flail in the sand kicking it up in one last desperate fight. 

Crosshair stumbles onto the roof, his eyes are dropping and he’s fighting to even keep them open. Wrecker drags him over to the ledge and points at two figures in the distance. From his guess they are about 12 clicks away, a fully functioning Crosshair might not even be able to make this shot, let alone a half dead one. Wrecker can only stand next to him and squint into the sunrise as his brother desperately tries to line up the shot. A figure drops as he pulls the trigger, but it’s impossible to tell who it is. 

Krexx falls to the side as the blaster bolt comes into contact with his body. It’s enough to dislodge him but not enough to kill him. Rolling in the sand all you can think about is getting air back into your system, but a death grip on your lower leg reminds you the fight isn't over.  You kick the Trandoshan again to dislodge him and you turn to bring your hands together in a devastating hit to where his neck meets his chest. Something in the sand catches your eye as you search for the blaster and your hand goes out to it. 

It’s not the blaster, it’s a rock. But a rock will do. Positioning yourself above him, Krexx just laughs. 

“Go on then, beat me to a bloody death.” And you gulp, eyes flickering from the rock to him. And you wonder if you have it in you to literally bash a man's head in. He continues to laugh at you. Make you cant viciously kill a man with a jagged stone. But you can certainly knock him out with one. 

So you bring the rock down once and then twice for good measure, until he stops struggling with so much power and you can pull him into a choke hold. Eventually allowing him to become unconscious beneath you. Leeya’s speeder is coming towards you, Hunter and her at the helm. She embraces you as Hunter binds the general, he turns towards you, and he picks the blaster out of the sand a few feet away. Pressing it into your hands, you think about shooting Krexx. But you know what good the republic could do with the information he holds. 

Whether you shoot him is your decision. And yours alone. 

But for now, you have more important matters on your mind.

Crosshair wakes up in a medbay, vaguely remembering your face in the morning sun. someone begging for him to stay awake, and that a republic cruiser was in a nearby system. He remembers feeling your soft hands cradling his face, and thinking dying wouldn't be so bad if he had gotten to say goodbye. 

“Wakey wakey.” He hears you call to him, a clean GAR uniform on, but still his black blanket wrapped around you. He tries to shift up, but Cross is stopped by your hand on his chest. 

“M’ fine.” He grunts out, trying to sit up again. You sit yourself on the side of his bed and refuse to move your hand.  

“Humour me?” You softly ask, Crosshair sighs but lays back down anyways. “Medics say you’ll make a full recovery. Tech says that once Hunter gets a hold of you they’ll say otherwise. Something about disobeying orders?” Your hand moves from his chest and into the hair at the side and back of his neck. Nails running gently over the tense muscle. He hums at the feeling, and subconsciously his hands search for purchase by your waist. Rubbing circles over the material and down into your skin. 

“Technically it was Wrecker that disobeyed orders.” He argues, letting his hands drift to the small of your back. 

“You know I could give you the lecture of your life for being such an idiot. But maybe i'll just be mad at you later instead.” You say fondly, letting him shift enough to make room beside his good leg for you to squish in the cot next to him. 

“You just can’t stay angry at someone this handsome.” He gives you a signature Crosshair smirk and moves his blanket over the two of you. 

“I beg to differ. I certainly can stay angry at someone that handsome.” You tease, snuggling closer to him.  Feeling his chest move as he chuckles. Crosshair stairs down at you, and just like the first time you found yourself in his arms he’s thinking about a time when the war is over and you’re living a life without fear or bloodshed. Except this time that older version of you is joined by an older version of him, pulling him close and kissing his lips for the billionth time. 

“I love you.” He whispers into your hair, breathing away tears. 

“I love you too.” You whisper back, shifting just enough to let your eyes flutter closed and press your lips to his. 

Some months later…

The airstrip is packed, and yet the wind still manages to find its way into the smallest of spaces, sending shivers deep into the skin of anyone present. 

“Experimental unit Clone Force 99. They’re defective clones with, uh… Desirable mutations.” Commander Cody explains to a very hesitant Captain Rex

“99, eh? Nice touch.” He says as the ramp descends.

“They call themselves, The Bad Batch.” Cody states with pride as Wrecker appears in the doorway, slaughtering down shouting something about the cavalry arriving. You stifle a giggle at their dramatics. Pulling your custom helmet, courtesy of Tech, over your head. While the boys had their grey and red plastic armour, yours had been painted with a little extra blue, forming wings that cascaded down the plate covering your back. The helmet however, featured foot prints of the bird ini question, each with a very small crosshair encircling them.  

And yes, you had added a delicately placed fairywren painting to crosshairs inner plating beside his ribcage. 

“Sergeant. Good to see you again.” Cody greets you all, as you stand beside your Cyare, eyeing him carefully.  He doesn't work well with others, especially when others involve regular clones. You jab your elbow into Crosshairs side playfully, reminding him to look a little less like he wants to explode right then and there. 

“I see that Wren fits right in.” The commander adds, giving you a smile and a nod, you finally pull off your helmet, much to the shock of Rex, Jesse and Kix. 

“That's definitely not a clone.” Kix says to Jesse. 

“Long time no see commander.” You say returning his smile, you move for a hug but Cody extends his hand to you. 

“Last time I tried to hug you, your Ram’ser almost killed me.” He reminds you with a side glance to Crosshair who looks even more annoyed with every passing second. 

“He’s harmless.” You wave him off and hug him anyways. Crosshair tries not to visibly stiffen, he’s wildly protective and even more so possessive. But it’s understandable considering you’re the only thing he’s ever known to bring him happiness. 

“Sorry we’re late, Commander. We were putting down an insurrection on Yalbec Prime when your comm came in. Had a few unforeseen… complications.” Hunter cuts in, knowing that this whole debacle needs to get a move on. 

“You ever fought a male Yalbec?” Wrecker asks loudly, enjoying the show you’re all putting on for the regs. 

“Um, Can’t say i have…” Jesse responds carefully, still looking at your with confusion, of course he’d heard of the Fairywren, but meeting a hero in person hits a little different than the stories. 

“You’re lucky! Only way to kill ‘em is with one of these.” Wrecker adds pulling out the biggest vibroblade Jessie has ever seen. 

“That’s right. Wrecker here cut off the queen’s stinger while she was still alive.” Hunter adds, still a little pissed off at his vod for the incident in question. “That’s why all those Yalbec males tried to eat us.” You chuckle at the memory, Crosshair had been understandably angry after all you were able to do was sit and laugh your ass off as they frantically ran around surrounded by Yalbec males. 

 “Ah, technically they were trying to mate with us. And, for your information, the stinger of a Yalbec Queen is a delicacy on some planets.” Tech jumps in causing you to laugh even more, and causing Crosshair to softly tap the side of your hip as if to say ‘cut it out.’ (But with a loving tone of course) 

“They call him Tech.” Cody explains to the other three clones who look petrified at the disaster of a family in front of them. 

“Yeah, he can fill your head with useless info for hours. Crosshair, on the other hand, is not much of a conversationalist, but when you have to hit a precise target from ten klicks, Crosshair’s your man.” Hunter boasts, causing a ghost of a smile form on his lips. 

“Actually sarge,” You cut in. “I believe he’s my man, ten klicks away or otherwise.” Crosshair does smile at that, sending you a look filled with sassy adoration and winding an arm around your middle. Hunter rolls his eyes. Crosshair may be possessive but you’re on a whole other level. He’s all you’ve got, and you’re all he’s got, it’s a recipe for the clingy disaster that is your relationship. 

“Don’t get me started on those two.” He grumbles to Cody, throwing a thumb over his shoulder at the two of you. “So Commander, what kind of suicide mission do you have for us this time?” He asks, heading back to the ship with Cody in tow. 

“After you.” Crosshair slurs at the blonde captain who bristles at the statement, but follows Cody onto the Havoc Marauder with Jessie and Kix. 

“Play nice.” you scold looking up at him with heart eyes, not that you ever look at him without heart eyes. 

“Make me Cyare.” He smirks at you, before pulling you into a bruising kiss, not hesitating to make it far too passionate to be shared in public. That's another thing about Crosshair, he kisses you when he sees fit, no matter the setting or situation. After he finally officially had you in his arms he vowed never to miss a moment to kiss you.  

“Ugh, jus’ get on the ship already, let's go!” Wrecker booms from behind you, so you cup his face and pull away, letting his lip chase yours as they part all too soon. 

“Come on Ram’ser, we’ve got seppie ass to kick.” You tell him, all butt skipping back to the ship. The love of your life right behind you every step of the way. 

[xiakha]

FFXIVWrite2021 Prompt #4 - Baleful

The winter winds on the Coerthas slopes seemed to never cease blowing. Their presence was also inescapable. Even in the stone-insulated warmth of Camp Dragonhead's innermost chambers, Alphinaud could pick out the distant whistling whenever he stopped to listen, and no matter how robust and crackling the fire in front of him was, no matter how many layers or blankets he was wrapped with at the time, the sound gave him an involuntary shiver.

Perhaps it was his fault for wearing an outfit filled with holes instead of something warmer on his first outing to Camp Dragonhead, and that chill that stole into his bones never left him since. Or maybe it was more psychological, knowing that, if he were to venture out of the relative safety of these walls, his own men were wont to descend upon him to take his head from his shoulders. For he was no Warrior of Light, he was but a would be princeling who decided he understood how the entire world worked before ever leaving his home to see it. It would be more useful for his political enemies to make him disappear forever, another scratched out footnote in the chronicles of the changing eras.

In his darkest hours, he wondered if his father was right.

As the winter deepened, he had begun to spend fewer of his waking hours brooding and more of them reading from the archives in Haurchefant's study. The commander of Camp Dragonhead held most of his meetings at his main desk in the foyer of the manor, only rarely retreating into the study to search the archive or to study some contract or other without interruption. So all other hours were yielded to Alphinaud's leisure. It was only here that he really began to understand the complexities of commanding.

It was mostly logistics. Having the right people in the right places at the right times, agreeing to have supplies delivered in a timely manner, predicting and accounting for shortages and casualties and finding the leeway to manage all of it, the plates required were many and all of them had to remain spinning. It was sobering to think that, with the climate of Ishgard so irreparably changed in the last five years, how much the city teetered constantly on the brink of failure as nearly all of the food production had to be relocated to the Sea of Clouds overnight. That first year after the Umbral Calamity was the first time in about a thousand years that something besides dragonfire risked bringing the city to ruin. Ice and Snow and Hunger were the names of the demons that year. And seeing that Haurchefant took control of Camp Dragonhead in the midst of this chaos and improved nearly everything across the board gave Alphinaud a newfound respect for the flamboyant knight.

As such, the young Elezen decided to do more than read through musty worksheets and tabulations. The Warrior of Light, when not fighting alongside the House Fortemps knights as a dragoon, pitched in where her strength was needed around the fortress. Tataru had picked up weaving and armor repair and cooking as a part of her duties. It was high time, Alphinaud thought, that he should join in.

* * *

Tataru stopped hammering away at the chainmail she was repairing and asked Alphinaud to repeat himself.

"Er, have you seen Ser Haurchefant around, Tataru?" The difference in height between the Lalafell and the Elezen seemed to accentuate Alphinaud's lost child nature, especially in this locale.

Tataru wiped her soot covered forehead with a soot covered begloved hand, "Oh, I believe he went down to the barn."

Alphinaud considered his options. He didn't want to start with working with animals. There were too many factors to account for. He also did not wish to shovel manure.

"Ah, very well. And Xiao? Where is she?" The Warrior of Light was assuredly also busy at work somewhere.

"Haven't seen her all day, but I heard she went down to the barn as well."

The supposed-not-princeling grimaced and wished that he had gotten to know the smallfolk better instead of spending his first moon at Camp Dragonhead sulking and reading archival invoices and worksheets. He hardly knew anyone else, at least who wasn't a soldier, by name. Oh he was grateful and gave generous thanks whenever he received anything or was taken care of, but everyone seemed to know his name and he was rarely given a chance to naturally learn anyone else's. To offer to help someone and having to ask for their name in the process felt like a betrayal of the principle he was looking to now follow through on.

So he was headed to the barn. As he labored alongside the Commander and the Warrior of Light, he vowed, he would learn a few names of the farmhands and shepherds.

As Alphinaud left, Tataru resumed hammering, then stopped. There was something she was forgetting. Wasn't today the day that the shepherds were to take some of the flock to slaughter? There shouldn't be work to do at the barn that would require the heavy lifting of both Haurchefant and Xiao.

She shrugged and continued hammering at the rivets in front of her.

* * *

Alphinaud opened the door of the barn with some difficulty. It was quite large and bulky and he found himself wishing he would get his growth spurt early. The warmth of the barn was nearly cozy in comparison to the bitter chill.

As he announced his presence, the sound of physical exertion halted. There was a bit of rustling and whispering, and Haurchefant's voice rang out from the far corner stall, "But a moment, Alphinaud!"

The Commander of Camp Dragonhead hurried over, bare chested and adjusting his pants. The sweat that coated him and his shortness of breath surely spoke of the intensity with which he labored. Alphinaud rolled up his sleeves in anticipation.

"Right, with whatever you're working on right now, I intend to lend a hand!"

A sheep bleated.

"Pardon?"

"I've spent far too long cooped up in that study. I wish to do my part around the fortress as Tataru and Xiao do. So please, let me join in! I don't mind if it's dirty or if I get sweaty."

Haurchefant crooked an arm at his waist and looked away with the expression of suppressing painful laughter.

"I appreciate it, dear Alphinaud, but I do not think this is your place."

Xiao waddled over, an oversized shirt hastily thrown over her body. Sweaty as well, but with more measured breathing, she tried her very best not to look directly at Alphinaud lest she shoot death glares at him.

"Ser Haurchefant, I insist. I mind it not if it's hard labor that leaves me sore in the morrow, I am as ablebodied as the next man!"

Haurchefant looked over at Xiao, mischeviously, "Well, my sweet, what do you think?"

Xiao shot Haurchefant a full death glare, to which Haurchefant threw back his head with roaring laughter.

When he had finished, he said, "I assure you, Alphinaud, we do not need your assistance in this, er, endeavor."

Alphinaud tilted his head, questioningly. There was clearly something here that he was missing, "Are you sure? Anything that would cause such exertion from the two of you would surely be lightened with another pair of hands, would it not?"

Xiao spoke up, "Please, Alphinaud, you're not--" The Warrior of Light was still in the process of learning the rolling tongue of Eorzean, having relied on the Echo for translation for so long, and thus hardly had the words.

"Indeed, there are certain works best done with two souls, well, at least in a stall so small." This earned Haurchefant a slap in the forearm from the Warrior of Light. "Why not help out in another way while we finish up?"

Alphinaud looked downcast, this wasn't turning out how he pictured it at all. He had imagined working alongside the rippling muscles of both Haurchefant and the Warrior of Light hauling crates or pitching hay. Or shoveling manure. It wasn't out of the question for him. Really.

But he would make the most of it, "Very well, how else can I help?"

Haurchefant snapped his fingers, "The shepherds will be refilling the fodder upon their return, why not make light their work and grab bales of hay enough to fill a stall?"

Now this was the heavy labor Alphinaud had pictured! He punched his hand like he had seen Xiao do many times before, "Excellent! I will begin forthwith!"

"There ought to be bales of hay in the shed across the grounds." Haurchefant pointed out the open barn door. "Worry not if the task seems grand, once our current task is completed, we will come to join you."

The young Elezen princeling, so worldly and knowing, rushed off with a determination he had not felt in a moon. The "labor" he was not to join in on pushed fully out of his mind with the thought of hay bales.

* * *

Haurchefant grabbed Xiao by the waist and swept her up for a kiss on the forehead. She reciprocated by latching on to him as she did before their interruption and kissing him on the side of the neck.

"I believe I've bought ourselves at least half a bell." Indeed, full grown men had trouble lifting a single bale, let alone carry one without help across the courtyard. "Shall we continue with our 'labor'?"

Xiao rested her head on Haurchefant's shoulder, taking in the feeling of his chest through the coarse fabric of the shirt, his shirt, that she had tossed on for modesty.

"The mood's gone, cold," she whispered in his ear, haltingly, "Warm me up again?"

Haurchefant walked over to the barn door with Xiao clinging on to him like some oddly indecent lizard on a tree and shut it.

[mintbees]

What are your thoughts about how fashion might look in a couple of decades

oh thats such a cool question!! well i dont think you can per se predict trends (i dont even know the current trends lmao) because fashion is kind of a mirror of its time. i cant predict what the world will be like in 30 years so i wouldnt be able to predict what will be hip by the time. That and i do not think you could (or should) see all of fashion as one type of style for the whole world, for example when you think of 50s clothes you most likely think about mid-upper class American clothing instead of whatever the average citizen of Malaysia was wearing at the time. fashion is super dependent on , politics, personal political ideology, geography, class, race,, and culture! which is what makes it so incredibly varied and fun to study! that being said there are some things i think/hope will happen to fashion. First although its stressfull to think about, global warming will absolutely effect fashion. I am assuming it wont get too dire but the change in climate is already majorly effecting sections of africa through desertification. I think some fabrics might become more expensive as less land to grow them on will become available. (cotton for example could potentially become a luxury fabric) Clothes might be made to be more heat resistant and maybe we will finally kill of the hoodie as an article of fashion because its too hot. we can only hope. i also really hope that sexuality and fashion will overlap more if that makes sense? There are already many designers to use sex in their clothing (Mugler, Alexander Mcqueen, Laquan Mmith) in amazing ways, and i hope that using sex appeal/general nudity continues to become more embraced in fashion! Like just look at the stuff Megan Thee Stallion and Cardi B r doing with their outfits!! that fucking rules i want more of it. Also idk how to word this in any way that doesnt sound horny so i just wont try but harnesses NEED to become a thing in mainstream fashion. they’re so cool and we need to stop sleeping on them.  The last one that is already happening that i cannot WAIT to see more of as we progress through time is a more multi-cultural fashion landscape. i am so so excited to see the next generation of designers from all over the world bringing their culture to us and sharing our heritages! I truly believe that when we let people from different cultures work in the mainstream and share their cultures, the fashion world will be so much more beautiful for it. One designer i already love for this excact reason is korean-american designer ji won choi,her Adidas collaboration always immediately comes to mind when i think about multi-cultural fashion. cannot wait to see more of that dude its going to be amazing I’m really excited to see more body-diverse clothing and see the new fabrics we will create and how we’ll use them (cristopher john rogers and iris van herpen are two that come to mind). Also very curious to see if/how current politics will have its domino effect, clothes are a mirror of their time and i wonder if stuff like antifa, blm, and the fight for queer rights will have its unexpected influences at some point. TL;DR: i truly have no idea because the world is weird and unpredictable but i’m excited to see what the future will bring >:]